


Elemental Falls

by Funtimewriter



Category: Adam Levine (Musician), Blake Shelton (Musician), Supernatural, The Voice (US) RPF, The Voice RPF
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angst with a Happy Ending, Buddy cops and bad boys, Casual Sex, Cheating, Corruption, Dementia, Destiel - Freeform, Emotional Manipulation, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Family Secrets, Hazing, Hurt/Comfort, I was bribed to write this, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Infertility, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Kidnapping, M/M, Mind Games, Organized Crime, Protective Dean Winchester, Shevine, Sorry but this isn't Shefani, Suicidal Thoughts, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-11-14 17:09:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 55
Words: 181,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11212500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Funtimewriter/pseuds/Funtimewriter
Summary: The sleepy town of Elemental Falls is home to a couple of detectives with questionable professional histories.  But when they get involved with a couple of drifters with some unusual abilities, they find themselves breaking more than the laws of the land.





	1. The Fat Boys

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jackatlas1996](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackatlas1996/gifts).



> So, here we are with several firsts for me: First crossover fic, first fic by request, first time I let myself be bribed with artwork to whore myself out on a piece I never expected would see the light of day. Despite the first chapter, please note this is NOT a Shefani piece! Shefani seems to be dominating the "Voice" boards right now, so putting this right out front. If you're looking for Shefani, sorry, luvs, but please move on!
> 
> For "Supernatural" fans, be advised that I don't have television. I watch the program on Netflix, only recently got into it, and the result was this fic. I'm well into the show now, but I'm not near the end, so please, don't spoil!
> 
> As always, comments, complaints, and bitching will all be accepted in equal measure. I do try to reply to all comments and generally post on a near-daily basis. That varies depending on RL issues.
> 
> Enough of that rot, do enjoy the story!
> 
> Jack, luv? You got me watching this bloody program, so this is for you. And my lovely but shy artist, this is for you, too!
> 
> Diegetic music here (and I use the term "music" lightly) is "Dudley Doright Of The Highway Patrol" by Ray Stevens  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i0lDHh6B52Q

            The phone rang at the worst possible moment.  Blake was naked on his knees on his bed with his wife’s legs on his shoulders and his hands around her waist, just about to thrust his hips forward.  Gwen’s expression perfectly mirrored his expression.  “Kill him,” she advised.

            “Ok!”  Letting her down in more ways than one, Blake crawled over and picked up the phone.  “You should know, I have just officially been ordered to murder you,” he explained pleasantly.

            “Murder is a crime,” the gravely voice on the phone told him.  “As an officer of the law, you should know this.  You should also consider the fact that, as a detective of the Elemental Falls police force, you would likely end up investigating a murder that you participated in, and…”

            “Cass, I was just about to experience the pleasure that is my lovely wife’s vagina.  If this call isn’t important, your death will be lingering and painful.”

            “You were about to have sex?  This is the third time this month that you have been about to have sex when I called,” Cass complained.  “You two are like rabbits!”

            “We’re trying to kill one, if you’ll recall?”

            “More murder?  Oh, wait, that means you’re trying to get pregnant.  Doesn’t that make sex kind of obligatory?” Cass wanted to know.  “When you’re trying to have a baby, it seems more like work.”

            “Cass?  Right now, Gwen is looking like she’s thinking of various ways she can stew your entrails,” Blake told him.  “I am ready to pass her the salt.  Now what do you want?”

            “They’re back.”

            “Who’s back?”

            “The Fat Boys.”

            It was one of the few things his partner could have said that had the potential to save his life right now.  Blake sucked in his breath, his eyes wide with interest.  “Where?”

            “I have all the details and I will not read the entire file over the phone.  Meet me at the diner.  And tell Gwen I’m sorry.”

            “Gwen, he’s sorry,” Blake called.

            “He’ll be sorry, alright!”

            “You hear that, buddy?” Blake asked.  “You’d better get her a good vibrator for Christmas to make up for this.”

            “I refuse to participate in any way with any further degradation of this conversation.  How soon can you get here?”

            “I can get there in about ten minutes if I leave right now.”

            “You sure you want to leave right now?” Gwen called.  She gave him a sultry smile.  One hand cupped her breast, brushing against her nipple with her thumb.  The other gently stroked her vulva.

            Blake stared.  “I can get there in about twenty minutes.”

            “Shelton?  You are being called out as part of your duties as a police detective.  This is very unprofessional behavior.”

            “Sorry, buddy, but all the blood just left my brain.”

            “Do not make me use deadly force!” Cass warned.  “After last time you made me promise only to do this in an emergency.  If you do not respond promptly to this call, you risk being fired.  Therefore, this qualifies as an emergency.”

            “Come on, Novak, have mercy!” Blake pleaded, his eyes still on his wife.  “You have no idea what I am looking at right now!”

            Cass took a deep breath and began to sing.  _“They call him Dudley Doright, but that’s not his real name!  The toughest highway cop from California to Maine!”_

            Blake grimaced.  “Red alert!”

            Gwen’s eyes grew wide.  “He’s not singing again, is he?”

            “I think he’s torturing a cat?”

            _“He’s Dudley Doright of the highway patrol!”_

            “Ok, enough, I give up!” Blake pleaded.  “Your mother was dead wrong when she named you after an angel, Cass.  She should have named you Beelzebub!”

            “See you in ten minutes.”  The phone went dead.

            “That had better be about a murder,” Gwen warned.  “Or it will be when I get my hands on that little shit!”

            Blake was scrambling into his clothes.  “It’s almost as good,” he called, hopping on one leg as he pulled on his pants.  “The Fat Boys are back!”

            “Oh no, not again,” Gwen groaned.  “You two are obsessed with those fat bastards!  Blake, how are we supposed to have a baby if you’re never home because you’re constantly chasing them?”

            “Because this time, we’re going to get them,” he vowed.  He pulled on his shirt, rapidly buttoning it over his chest, and leaned down to kiss his frustrated wife.  “When I get home, we’ll pick up where we left off.”

            “You’d better!”  Gwen hit him in the face with a pillow.  “And tell Cass I want a pink vibrator.”

            “Pink it is.”

            The two smiled, and then Blake leaned down for a better kiss.  They lingered for a moment before breaking it off.  “I love you,” Blake told her.

            “I love you, too.”  She playfully reached back to swat at his rump.  “Now go make the world a better place by ridding it of overweight criminal masterminds.”

            “They’re either masterminds, or just really, really lucky,” Blake told her as he reached for his badge and gun.  “Honestly, I haven’t decided which it is yet.”

            “Either way, good luck!”

            “Thanks,” he replied.  “If those fat fuckers are back in town, I have a feeling I’ll need it.”

****

            Ten minutes later, Blake pushed his way in through the sticky door at the diner.  “Hey, Detective Shelton!” called the hostess.  “You want your usual for breakfast today?  Say yes, because we started cooking it when Cass came in and it’s almost ready for you.”

            “Sure, sweetheart, but I’m changing how I want my eggs today,” he said.  “How about instead of too greasy we go for too salty?”

            “Can do!”

            “That’s my girl.”

            “You are a menace to coronary arteries everywhere,” Cass told him as Blake slid into the booth.  “You are no doubt already suffering the effects of hyperlipidemia.  Now you’re moving on to hypertension?”

            “Enough with the fancy medical talk.  There is no point in eating if you don’t enjoy the food,” Blake defended.  “Besides, no one can eat that tofu crap but you.”

            Cass had already started eating his salad.  He stabbed another bite with his fork and held it up to Blake.  “First, it’s salad, not tofu.  Second, this is why, in the very near future, your stomach will appear as if you are the pregnant one instead of your wife while I remain in peak physical condition.”

            “And yet, I’m the one who was about to have sex this morning, while you stared into your veggies,” Blake retorted.

            Cass lowered the fork, looking sad.  “Your words hurt me.”

            “Good, your salty tears sustain me.  So what have you got?”

            Cass took a bite of his salad before answering, chewing slowly to irritate his partner.  Moving with agonizing slowness, he produced a manila file and placed it on the table.

            Blake snagged it and looked inside.  “Omaha?  What the hell were they doing in Omaha?”

            “Misbehaving, apparently.”  Cass stabbed another bite of salad.  “Three break-ins, two acts of vandalism, six robberies and an arson.”

            “And a partridge in a pear tree.  We sure it’s the fat asses?” Blake asked as he skimmed the information.

            “Well, one of the robberies was a bakery, which indicates…”

            “For real?  They’re moving from buying junk food with stolen credit cards to outright stealing it?”

            “Looks like they’ve done both.  The bakery was having some kind of contest for charity when they were robbed.  Took the money and the pastries that were going to be auctioned off.”

            Blake stared at him.  “Those lard asses stole from a charity?”

            “I’m afraid so.”

            “Sons of bitches!  Cass, we gotta get these guys.”  Blake frowned at the file and nodded absently when the waitress placed a plate in front of him.  “Ok, so from Omaha, they moved on to Ohio.”

            “Robbed a casino owner, apparently,” Cass supplied.  “Beat the guy senseless, robbed him, stripped him to his underwear and left him tied up in the bathtub, covered in his own urine.  Logic dictates that he had to have seen them, but he swears up and down he has no idea who they were and can’t possibly describe them.”

            “And all of these have the same connections as the others.”  It wasn’t a question.

            “Every single time, there were rumors of a connection with the King of Hell,” Cass confirmed.  “Even the bakery was on the radar.  According to the local police, the owner was believed to have connections.”

            “But no way to prove it.”

            “None whatsoever.”

            “Wonderful.”  Blake irritably took a bite of his eggs.  “Do you ever wonder sometimes if we’re the only decent people left alive?” he asked after he swallowed.  “It’s like everyone else has a shady past or dubious connections but you and me!”

            Cass spread his hands.  “Well, we are Carson’s Angels.  We are a shining beacon of hope in the darkness all around us.”

            “That we are.  Ok, now here comes the big question.  Why, exactly, do you think they’re back?”

            “Because they were here.”

            Blake stopped chewing his food for a moment.  “Here?  You mean, here here?  Like, in this diner?”

            Cass reached into the battered old trench coat he always wore and produced a sealed evidence bag.  “Surveillance tape from the camera that recorded the robbery right here, just this morning.”

            Blake snatched it eagerly from his hand.  “This morning?”

            “Four am, to be exact.”

            “Thank God for fat fuckers with sweet cravings in the middle of the night!”  Blake’s eyes were ablaze with excitement as he looked at the tape.  “Wait, does that mean this place has a link with the King of Hell, too?”

            “Blake, this diner opened because the owners approached a known associate with the King of Hell for a loan, remember?” Cass reminded.  “We started eating here because we were investigating them at the time.  Then we stayed because the food was good.  The salads are always fresh and you enjoy clogging your arteries with their greasy offerings.”

            “Oh yeah.  Dammit, Cass, I’m slipping again.”

            “It’s alright,” Cass assured.  “It’s all that sex you’re having.  The frequent draining of the blood from your brain is affecting your cognitive skills.”

            Blake ignored this.  “Being the good, thoughtful detective I trained you to be, I know that you have already interviewed the first person who discovered the break-in, right, my young padawan?”

            Cass bowed his head slightly.  “I desire only to make you proud, great sage and instructor.  My notes are ready to be typed up.”

            “I have taught you well.”  Blake shook his head.  “You know the first thing I’m going to ask these guys once we catch them?  Why the hell they keep coming back here!  They travel all over the country pulling their shit and the King of Hell’s based in the city, but over and over they come back out here to Elemental Falls and cause trouble.  It and the junk food are the only consistent things about them.”

            “That is correct.  Victims are all different locations, different social circles, different economic levels,” Cass recited.  “Different goals in the robberies.  They steal electronics one time and guns the next.  Different times of day, different days of the week, different routes of ingress and egress.  Sometimes they’re racing from place to place, other times it seems like they take a vacation between hits.  Yet we never find any hard evidence connecting them to the King of Hell, nor do we find a single witness to give us a description.”

            “Someone, somewhere, has to have seen these guys!” Blake insisted.  “We both know it.  But not a single witness will come forward.  These guys do whatever they want and they may as well be ghosts!”

            “I find the likelihood that these crimes are committed by spectral criminals very low.”

            “Cass, quit being so damned literal.  You know exactly what I mean!”

            “Of course I do,” Cass said without missing a beat.  “But I agree.  What puzzles me the most is that they always show up back here.  We got a gang crossing state lines and then coming back home.  And you know that means we have to call the feds again, right?”

            “You always know just how to ruin my breakfast, Cass,” Blake complained.  “Think we’ll get the same two conceited assholes we had last time?”

            “Oh, I certainly hope so,” Cass sighed.  “I always look so forward to being made to feel like an incompetent rookie.”

            “Well, don’t let them get to you,” Blake comforted.  “You’re not a rookie, Cass.”

            “Thanks.”  Cass pulled out his notepad and flipped through it.  “The woman who discovered the break-in was Alyssa Davies, twenty-seven.  Said she arrived at five am to open and knew there had been a break-in because the door wasn’t properly latched.  So she called the police and stayed in the parking lot in her car to warn off the other employees until the uniforms arrived.”

            “Smart girl!” Blake cheered.  “I love it when civilians don’t take stupid risks.”

            “Indeed.  When the uniforms arrived, she said the thieves had cracked the safe and taken all the money, plus the usual junk food.  Oh, and this time, they took that.”

            Blake stared, finally realizing what was missing from their table.  “They took our little mini jukebox?  No!”

            Cass sighed.  “I know.  I feel the same way.  Bad enough they took one, but they took the one at our table?”

            “That’s just wrong!  These guys are going down.  Emma!” he called.  “Get me a box, honey, today breakfast is to go!”  Blake held up the surveillance tape and grinned at his partner.  “You up for some movie watching?”

            Cass smiled.  “I’ll bring the popcorn.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun says you should never cock block a dude. That's just mean.


	2. All In A Day's Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Adam are hard at work, but Dean is justifiably worried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To start out, I thought I'd do a double post, show what both sets of our heroes are up to in this story. Enjoy!

            Adam took a deep drag from his cigarette and held it for a moment, savoring the burn.  He slowly released the smoke, watching as it mixed into the smoke already filling the room.  Leaning back in the expensive padded leather of the chair, he put his muddy boots onto the equally expensive desk.  Then he flicked his ashes into the pencil cup.

            The sound of footsteps announced the entrance of a man covered head to toe in flames.  “Hey, Dean,” Adam called without looking up.  “What’s the verdict?”

            “It’s official,” the flaming man reported.  “White kerosene does not burn any better than lamp oil.”

            Adam took another drag on his cigarette.  “I told you so.”

            “Yes, but now we know for sure,” Dean insisted.  “It’s science!”  He started moving around the office, using his flaming arm to set fire to the blinds and the files in the binders that littered the room.  “Just out of curiosity, is there really a point to sitting there smoking a cigarette in a room filled with smoke, other than to double your chances at getting lung cancer?”

            “Not really.  Mostly because I feel like it.  Deal.”  Adam moodily snubbed out the cigarette on the desk.  He got up and moved to the file cabinet, where he started rooting through the files.

            Dean dropped into the chair Adam had just vacated and leaned back, letting the flames that covered his body go out.  “You know what confuses me?” he asked.  “How you can be so into yoga and those disgusting health shakes you drink all the time, yet you still smoke like a chimney!  How does that even make sense?  Do you have any explanation?”

            Adam had apparently found the file he was looking for.  He pulled it out and tucked it under one arm.  Then he leaned over the remaining files and gently blew at them.  They immediately burst into flames.  “I do yoga and health shakes to stay healthy,” he said, “and cigarettes because I enjoy them.  Any other questions?”

            “Nope.  Did you get the server?”

            “Yes, I got the server.  Did you get the boiler?”

            “That answer your question?” Dean asked as an explosion made the room shake.

            “Sounds about right.”  Adam came over and grabbed the collar of Dean’s shirt.  Twisting it in his hand, he used it to pull the other man’s head closer and kissed him.  His tongue explored the inside of Dean’s mouth for a moment before releasing him.

            “You’re so gross,” Dean told him, suspicions confirmed.  “You taste like cigarettes and tequila.  Why the hell are you drunk again?”

            Adam checked around the room.  Everything appeared to be burning nicely, except for the desk.  “What makes you think I’m drunk?”

            “Because you only stick your tongue down my throat when you’re shitfaced,” Dean explained.  His green eyes were fixed on his friend.  “You gonna tell me what the problem is?”

            “There isn’t one.”

            “Bullshit.”

            “Back off, Dean.”

            “That bad, huh?”

            “Keep it up and I’ll stick my dick down your throat,” Adam warned, moving to the desk.

            “You already did,” Dean said, getting up.  “Totally fucked my mouth just now.  You know oral sex always gives you amnesia.”

            Adam nodded.  “Ah, that’s right, I forgot.”

            Dean pushed the chair back into the desk and raised his hands.  “Come on, buddy, let’s finish up.  On three?”

            Adam nodded and mimicked Dean’s pose.  “One, two, three!”

            A satisfying double gout of flame engulfed the desk and chair.  Then it was crackling nicely as it burned.  The entire room glowed orange and wavered in the rising heat.

            Dean slapped Adam’s arm.  “C’mon, let’s go get paid.  I got a blonde to visit.”

            “Not yet,” Adam reminded.  He held up the file.  “We got one more job to do first.”

            Dean made a face.  “Ok, we’ll get this asshole and then we’ll get paid.  And you can tell me why you’re drunk again.”

            Adam rolled his eyes in irritation.  “What is it with you poking around in my business?  So I’m drunk.  I’m over twenty-one, Dean!  Do I need a reason?”

            “To get drunk, no.  To get drunk enough to shove your tongue down my throat?  Usually, yes.”

            Adam idly stuck his hand in the flames on the desk, scooped out a handful, and watched it dance over his fingers.  “Maybe I just think you’re hot?”

            “I am, but if that was the case, you’d be walking around hard all the time.  Not that you’re not a constant prick anyway.”

            He closed his hand, snuffing the flame.  “Cute.”

            “Yes, yes I am.”  Dean took his friend’s arm and gently tugged.  “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

            The two men walked through the burning building, ignoring the flames and bits of burning debris that fell from the drop tile ceiling all around them as they headed for the stairs.  “So where are we going for this job?” Dean asked.

            Adam checked the file.  “Looks like Crowley guessed right.  It’s the assistant that’s holding the diamonds.  And according to the credit receipts on the computer, he’s staying at the Hilton.”  He snapped the file shut, glancing at his friend.  “You wanna pay him a visit and play show and tell?”

            “You know how much I love show and tell!”  Dean cracked his knuckles.  “Alright, let’s go!”

****

            Half an hour later, Adam leaned against the wall next to the door of the hotel room.  He nodded to Dean, who had pressed himself against the wall on the other side of the doorway, and knocked.  Then he deepened his voice.  “Security!” he called.  “Sir, we need to speak with you about an issue with your credit card?”

            “What?” exclaimed an exasperated voice from behind the door.  “There’s nothing wrong with my credit card!  It’s supplied by the company!  What do you mean?”

            “I’m afraid that when we ran it, it came up as overdrawn,” Adam said.

            “That’s outrageous!”  Irritated footsteps stomped their way to the door.  “Your computer must be malfunctioning!  That card couldn’t possibly…”

            As the man spoke, he’d unlocked the door.  Dean was through it in a flash, slamming into the man with one broad shoulder and sending him sprawling on the ground.  Adam came through much slower, closing and bolting the door as Dean grabbed the man by the hair, dragged him up, and shoved him towards the bed.

            The man let out a high pitched squeal and scrabbled backwards.  “What is this?” he exclaimed.  “Who are you people?”

            Dean leaned down and grinned into the man’s face.  “I’m Batman!”

            “We represent Fergus Crowley,” Adam explained.  He pulled the chair away from the desk, moved it closer to the cowering man, and straddled it, leaning on the back of the chair to look down at the man.  “I assume you recognize the name?”

            “That son of a bitch!  Tell him I don’t know shit about that money!  I just…  Ow!”

            Dean had just slapped the man roughly across the face.  The man was wearing a pair of expensive lavender silk boxers and a matching robe.  He appeared to be in his late forties, with salt and pepper hair and wide blue eyes that stared in shocked horror as blood began to trickle from his nose.  “How dare you!” he squeaked, cupping his injured nose.

            In answer, Dean grabbed the man by the robe and heaved him up to his feet.  Then he shoved him at the bed.

            “Here’s how this works,” Adam explained calmly as the man sprawled across the bed.  “It’s like show and tell in school, but there’s a twist.  I ask you questions, and you tell me what I want to know.  If you don’t, then my partner here shows you what your insides look like.”

            “This is my favorite game next to duck duck goose,” Dean informed him.

            “I thought dodge ball was your favorite game?” Adam asked.

            “Ok, then it’s my third favorite game!”

            “Listen, you don’t have to do this,” the man said nervously.  “Whatever Crowley’s paying you, I can beat it!”

            “So here’s the question,” Adam said, ignoring this as Dean slapped the man again.  “Where are the diamonds?”

            “I don’t have them!  I swear!”

            Dean grabbed the man by the robe again, pulled him up, and abruptly brought up his knee, slamming it hard into the other man’s gut.  The man grunted in pain and fell back as Dean pushed him back on the bed again.  “You didn’t tell, so now I get to show!”

            “Wait!” the man shrieked.  “Please, don’t hurt me?”

            “Don’t want the show?”  Dean jerked a thumb over his shoulder at Adam.  “Then you better get on the tell!”

            “To repeat, the question is, ‘Where are the diamonds?’” Adam said calmly.  “And I strongly suggest that you very carefully consider your answer, or this is going to turn into a very bad day.”

****

            Twenty minutes later, Dean and Adam were back on the road.  Adam had an opened black velvet bag on his lap and was absently sifting diamonds through his fingers while Dean drove.  He had what was left of the bottle of tequila he’d started on earlier in his other hand.

            Dean watched him out of the corner of his eye as Adam took another drink.  “I’m gonna pull off the next exit,” he announced.  “We can get a bite to eat.”

            Adam rolled his eyes.  “Another triple greasy cheesy heart attack on a plate with a side of fries?  How did you not suffer a coronary already?”

            “And a soft drink and pie!  Don’t forget.”

            “I don’t know which of you has more grease, you or this car!”

            Dean scowled.  “Don’t you start talking shit about my Baby again, Levine!”

            “How the hell do you eat the way you do and not weigh three hundred pounds?” Adam complained.

            Dean shrugged.  “I burn it off.”

            “No, Dean, _I_ burn it off.  I do yoga and go jogging.  You sit around on your ass all day, watching Japanese animated porn.”

            “Adam, you eat a hell of a lot more than I do,” Dean pointed out.  “You never stop eating!  It’s about the only thing you sit still for.”

            “It’s called ADHD, asshole,” Adam growled.  He closed the bag of diamonds, shoved them into a pocket, and took another drink.  “Don’t make fun of my disability.”

            Dean watched him drink out the corner of his eye, but kept his face expressionless.  “I have not yet said a single word about your prick,” he said.

            Adam blinked at him in confusion.  Then he rolled his eyes.  “It’s funny, the way you think you’re funny.”

            “I’m a very funny guy!” Dean protested.

            “Funny looking, you mean!”  Adam frowned, realizing that his bottle was empty, and almost tossed it into the back seat.  A glare from Dean made him reconsider.  “Alright,” he said as he shoved the bottle into the bag they were using for trash.  “We’ll swing through the drive-through, and then it’s straight on until we get these back to Crowley.”

            “Baby needs gas, so we may as well just stop,” Dean suggested.

            Adam groaned.  “Dean, I swear, this stupid car is the only thing that eats more than you do!”

            “Bitch, I will end you if you say one more negative thing about my Baby!”

            “It’s a gas guzzling piece of scrap!”

            “Get the hell out of my car, Levine!  Your skinny ass is walking from here.”

            “Suck my sack, Winchester.  You know I’m too drunk to walk.”

            “Then shut the fuck up and let me drive.”

            “Fine, drive!” Adam encouraged.  “Because there is no way I am stopping before I drop off these diamonds!”

            They stopped, of course.  Dean was driving, so Adam didn’t have much of a choice in the matter.  Adam complained about it as Dean pulled him out of the car, refused to order so that Dean had to order for them both, and then sulked about it as they ate.  Dean seemed oblivious, eating with gusto and loudly slurping his drink with visible good cheer.  But his attention was largely on Adam as he ate, making sure the other man ate as well.  Fortunately, Adam’s tendency to nibble on whatever happened to be in front of him held true, despite his earlier complaints that he didn’t want to eat.

            Satisfied that they’d both consumed an adequate amount, Dean dragged Adam back out and into the car.  His good mood continued when he filled the Impala with gas and once more started back on the road.  “Feeling a bit more sober now?” he asked.

            Adam considered the question.  “A bit, yeah.”

            “Good.  Now why are you drinking again?  Did she dump you?”

            Dean had intended it to be a joke.  But when the silence from the passenger seat suddenly turned frosty, he winced.  “Dude!  Seriously?”

            “Shut the fuck up, Dean.”

            “Oh man, that sucks!” Dean groaned.  “I thought you two really had something going this time.  What happened?”

            “Shut the fuck up, Dean!” Adam called again.

            “Bitch cheat on you?”

            “Shut up!”

            Dean scoffed.  “Seriously?  Who with?”

            “Dean, I swear, if you say one more word…!”

            “Tell me it wasn’t that douchebag Mark, with all the muscles?”

            Silence.

            Dean glanced over.  “You ok, man?”

            “Apparently not.  I’m drinking, after all.”  Adam leaned dejectedly against the window.

            Dean drove in silence for a moment, considering.  “How’d you find out?” he asked at last.

            “You remember when I went over there last night and was going to take her out?”

            “Yeah, you kept bragging about how you were gonna get laid.”

            “Yeah, well, muscleman beat me to it.”

            Dean frowned.  “You walked in on them?”

            “Yup.”  Adam appeared fascinated with the passing scenery.

            “Damn, brother!  What did they have to say about it?”

            “They had no idea I was there,” Adam confessed.  “I hadn’t expected us to be back yesterday, and she clearly didn’t think I’d be around.  The door wasn’t locked, so I came in.  Then I heard something from the upstairs bedroom, so I went upstairs, and there they were.  So I just turned back around and left.”

            “So, as far as she knows, there’s nothing wrong with your relationship and you’re coming back today?” Dean asked casually.

            Adam glanced over at his friend and narrowed his eyes.  “Dean, what are you thinking?”

            “That I should have gotten the apple pie instead of the cherry.  I like apple much better.  No idea what I was thinking.”

            Adam groaned.  “Dean!  You can’t keep doing this!”

            “Doing what?”

            “Going gunning for everyone who hurts me,” Adam accused.  “I know you put my last boyfriend in the hospital, Dean.  Do not even try to lie and say it wasn’t you.”

            Dean snorted and gripped the wheel a little tighter.  “That son of a bitch never should have put his hands on you!  I’m still pissed off, just thinking about him and that bruise on your face!”

            “And I showed him the wisdom of that all on my own!” Adam yelled.  “He hit me and I beat the shit out of him and that should have been the end of it.  But you see the bruise on my face and go all quiet, and next thing I know, you disappear for a few hours.  Then I’m reading in the paper that Rick’s been assaulted and in serious condition and the police are asking for suspects!  You’re damned lucky Crowley convinced him that talking was a bad idea or you’d be sucking some convict’s dick in prison about now.”

            “The way I heard it?” Dean said.  “He tripped and fell down the stairs.”

            “And just how many times did he fall down the stairs?”

            Dean shrugged.  “I sort of lost count after the fourth time I dragged his sorry ass back up them.”

            “Dammit, Dean!” Adam exploded.  “You cannot throw Mark the Musclehead down the steps!”

            Dean shrugged again.  “Alright, I won’t throw him down the steps.”

            “Or Behati!”

            “Now that is just unfair!” Dean complained.  “Everyone should have a hobby, Adam.  Mine happens to be seeing how many times people bounce, ok?”

            “And you wonder why I drink!”  Adam sighed.  “Just stay away from Mark and Behati, would you?  You know who we got looking at us!  If we get arrested again, Crowley’s gonna let us sit in jail.”

            “I bet you twenty bucks that you become someone’s prison bitch before I do.”

            “You’re on.  But before you start your new career and someone tattoos knockers on your back, can we please just get back to Crowley and drop off these diamonds so we can get paid?”

            “What is your obsession with getting paid?” Dean wanted to know.  “I got a blonde waiting, so I want to get done.  But you’re fixated on the money!  What do you need money for?”

            “I’m buying a puppy,” Adam deadpanned.

            “You will never, ever, ever bring a dog into this car.  They will never find your body!”  He paused, glancing again at Adam.  “Getting shitfaced again won’t make it go away, buddy.”

            “Actually, it will, at least while I’m unconscious.”

            Dean sighed.  “Adam…”

            “Don’t talk to me, Dean, ok?  Just let me deal with things the best way I know how.”

            “Drowning in a bottle isn’t dealing with things.  And before you even say it?” Dean continued as he saw Adam open his mouth.  “I know I’m no better.  Difference is, I crawled back out of that bottle.  I just don’t want to see you climbing in to take my place.”

            “Your concern is touching.”  Adam twisted sideways, putting his back to Dean.  “Wake me up when we get there, ok?”

            Dean didn’t reply.  A moment later, Adam was softly snoring.  Dean kept driving, his lips pressed tightly together as he considered his options.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun says he likes their banter here, finds it very amusing. Wants to know why they're on fire? Thinks Dean is up to something.


	3. Kite Flying for Rude Feds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake and Cass get stuck with a brilliant but obnoxious FBI agent who is determined to solve the Fat Boys case. Cass is told to go fly a kite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music here (non-diegetic) is "Let's Go Fly A Kite" from Mary Poppins. Welcome to how my mind works, but by the end of this chapter, it will actually make sense.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oBkSy3dnIY8

            “These guys,” Blake declared, “are really fucking funny.”

            “I honestly do not see the humor,” Cass said.

            “I don’t either, Cass.  And somehow, I don’t think Carson will, either.”

            “You don’t think I will what now?”

            Blake and Cass cringed in unison, hearing the voice of the captain as Carson stuck his head into the room where they were viewing the surveillance video from the diner.

            When neither of the two detectives spoke, Carson came in.  He stared quietly at the monitor, which was displaying one of the campaign signs Carson was currently using in his bid for mayor.  The sign showed his smiling face and “Daly for Mayor” as usual.  But instead of the smart, professional suit he’d been wearing for the picture, Carson appeared to be topless, wearing only a bow tie.  Red lipstick kiss marks decorated his cheek, chin, and forehead.  The picture gave a whole new meaning to Carson’s campaign slogan of “He knows what this city needs.”

            No one said anything for a moment.

            “Fat Boys?” Carson asked finally.

            Cass nodded glumly.  “They knew exactly where the camera was, and rigged this sign up in front of it with some wire.  Then they took their time.  When they left, they took the sign with them.”

            “I see.”  Carson stared for a while longer at his altered campaign sign.  “Gentlemen, the FBI is here.  Just one agent this time.  I suggest you go talk to him.”  He turned on his heel and walked stiffly out of the room.

            “Ok, he’s pissed,” Blake observed.  “He’s letting us talk to the fibbies alone?  Not a good sign.”

            “I think we may be putting in some overtime on this one, partner,” Cass sighed.  “It’s not standard operating procedure to send a single agent.  Either he’s very, very good, or he really pissed someone off.  I wonder which one it is?”

            “Probably pissed someone off.”

            “Who?”

            “Who cares?”  Blake got up and pulled on his jacket.  “You going to give me a number?”

            “Of course.  Don’t I always?”

            Blake grinned.  Then he put on his professional face and he and Cass went out to meet the FBI agent.

            The agent was almost as tall as Blake.  He was badly in need of a haircut, but his grip was firm as he shook hands.  “You’re detectives Castiel Novak and Barakiel Shelton?” he asked before either man could say anything.  “I was told to talk to you.”

            “It’s Blake,” Blake corrected.  “And my partner is…”

            “Out of his league,” the agent snapped.  “You both are.  That’s been obvious for a long time now.  But that’s why I’m here.  Detective Novak, why are you holding up eight fingers?”

            “No reason.  And it’s Cass.”

            “Sounds like it’s short for Cassandra,” the agent announced, taking a seat and brushing his hair out of his face.  “If we’re going to go on a first-name basis, then call me Sam.”

            “That sounds like it’s short for Samantha.”  Cass said this with a perfectly straight face.

            Blake rubbed at his mouth to hide his smile.  Cass didn’t fire off zingers often, but when he did, it always amused the hell out of Blake.  Obviously, this little punk needed taken down a peg or two.  He and Cass knew just how to handle people like this.  “So Sam,” he said aloud, “you’re quite a bit younger than what we’re used to dealing with.  What qualifications do you have besides being a complete dick and alienating the local people?”

            “I’m a Mensa level genius,” Sam informed them.  “I’m an expert in computer technology, information systems, and criminal justice.  Being a complete dick is just a side benefit.  When the bureau has a case featuring a criminal mastermind that it can’t solve, it comes to me.”

            “So, you’re out here to deal with our criminal masterminds?”  Blake was impressed in spite of himself.  “I hadn’t realized our Fat Boys rated that high!”

            “They don’t.  I just solved a real case and I was on vacation, but I got bored.  My superiors brought this case to my attention, so I came out here.”

            Blake and Cass looked at each other.  Cass silently held up seven fingers.  Blake nodded.

            Meanwhile, Sam was sorting through a file.  “Your Fat Boys,” he began.  “I’ve read all of your case notes and what we’ve got at the Bureau.  What makes you think they’re connected with this King of Hell?”

            “Because every time they hit, there’s a connection,” Blake reported.  “If you’d read the case notes, you would see that.”

            “You know what I don’t see?” Sam asked.  “Proof.  Evidence.  An actual link between these crimes and this so-called ‘King of Hell.’  You basically built a profile on these Fat Boys based on rumors!  That isn’t how being a detective works.  How long have the two of you been on the job?”  The agent flipped a page, obviously not expecting an answer.  “I looked at your personnel files.  The two of you are, bar none, the most unprofessional, irreverent, and unconventional detectives I have ever worked with.  You’ve got the highest number of assault and excessive force allegations in the county!  Why do people call you Carson’s Angels?”

            “Carson’s the chief, Carson Daly,” Cass explained patiently.  “And we were both named after angels.  He was named after the captain of guardian angels, and I was named after the angel of the oppressed and downtrodden, which is actually Cassiel, but my mother…”

            “Do you ever stop talking?” Sam asked.

            Cass immediately went quiet.  Blake frowned.

            “So you guys are called ‘Carson’s Angels’ even though you go by Blake and Cass?”

            “Seriously?” Blake scoffed.  “Would you want to go around having people call you Barakiel and Castiel?”

            “No one calls us that but our parents,” Cass supplied quietly.

            Blake nodded, glowering at the agent.  “Not unless they’re out to start a fight, anyway!”

            “I’ll keep that in mind.  Your arrest record is solid enough, but your conviction rate is sorely lacking.  You two have misplaced evidence, intimidated witnesses, conducted sloppy investigations…”

            “Speaking of being out to start a fight,” Blake interrupted, “what is your problem, Sammy?  You have been on our asses since we walked in the door.  Did we kick your dog in another life?”

            “My problem is this.”  Sam snapped the file shut.  “The two of you have been babied and spoiled by your chief for entirely too long.  When you lost evidence on that arson case, that all by itself should have warranted you being busted back down, and yet you kept your badges.  You’ve been investigated by I.A. over allegations of tampering with a witness, something that should have gotten you suspended or fired, on at least two different occasions.  And yet every time, your chief has gone to bat for you and argued that you should keep your jobs!  Well, normally I would not give a shit.  The two of you obviously know or blow someone, and I don’t have the time or the patience for local politics.  But now you’re looking at a pair of criminals who have crossed state lines and are on our radar, and they seem to always circle back to your shithole little town.  The last thing I need is to put in all this work into catching these Fat Boys only for the Keystone Cops to cock up the entire case and let them walk!”

            “Perhaps it might be better if this conversation continued in Carson’s office?” Cass called, seeing Blake bristle.

            “Why?  So daddy can protect you again?”  Sam shook his head in disgust.  “No, there’s only one thing to do here.  We’re riding together.”

            Blake blinked.  “Come again?”

            “I’m going with you, and the two of you are going to walk me through this entire case, right from the beginning.  So let’s get started.”  He got up, collecting the file, and looked expectantly at the two surprised detectives.  “Well?  First crime scene, please!”

            “That would be the bar on Long Avenue, Cow Patty’s,” Cass offered.  “But it’s boarded up?”

            “Then call the owner to open it up for us.  Let’s move.”

            Next thing they knew, Blake and Cass found themselves leading the obnoxious agent out of the station.  There was a commotion out front, two suspects being literally dragged inside.  The two were cursing and fighting, making a general nuisance of themselves.

            Cass rolled his eyes, annoyed by the noise.  “Gentlemen!  Would you please behave yourselves?  We have a guest!”

            One of the suspects spit at Cass, who barely managed to avoid the offensive substance.  “Fuck you, angel eyes!”

            “You’re a charmer, aren’t ya?” Blake grumbled.  “Hey Sam, when you go, do you think you could take them with you as a souvenir?”

            Sam was eyeing the two.  “Local color?”

            “I couldn’t even tell you their names,” Blake explained.  “Seen them around, but they’re not really in my social circle.”

            There was a thud and a grunt, and suddenly the spitter was on the ground.  Cass stood near him, the picture of innocence.

            “You son of a bitch!” the man’s partner in crime yelled.  “You tripped him!”

            “Funny, to me, it looked like he tripped over his own feet?” said the officer helping the sputtering man up.

            “Yeah, maybe he slipped in his own spit?” the other officer agreed.

            Sam narrowed his eyes.  “Detective Novak, did you trip this man?”

            Cass’s eyes opened wide.  “That could be considered unnecessary force or abuse of a prisoner, especially as the man is currently restrained.  Why would I ever do such a thing?”

            “That would be very naughty, Cass,” Blake scolded.  “Don’t ever do it!”

            “Hey sasquatch, who’s the moose with you?” the spitter wanted to know as he managed his feet.

            “Who gives a fuck?’ his partner yelled as the two were dragged into the station.  “We want a lawyer!  Call Crowley, right fucking now!”

            “Crowley would be the local sleazy criminal lawyer,” Cass explained when Sam cocked an eyebrow.  “Every criminal in town has his number memorized.”

            “I knew I’d seen the name,” Sam recalled, following the two detectives out to the car.  “He’s won the last four cases you two were involved in, hasn’t he?”

            “He’s a very good local sleazy lawyer,” Cass amended.

            “Or, the detectives assigned didn’t present a strong case.”  Sam pushed past Cass and stopped, staring, at the car.  “Angel wings on the side of an official police vehicle?  Really?  Have the two of you considered that maybe you take this ‘Carson’s Angels’ thing just a bit too far?”

            “Exactly how long are you planning to be in town again?” Blake wanted to know.

            “Until I solve the case.”  The agent stood at the passenger door, obviously intent on taking Cass’s usual seat.  When Cass stared at him, he smiled.  “Just how long do you think it will take to get to Cow Patty’s?”

****

            “You said it was boarded up!” Sam accused.

            “It is.  Door’s boarded, see?”  Cass pointed at the boards over the door.

            Sam irritably stepped through the missing wall of the burned-out building.  “You might have mentioned the fact that it burned to the ground!”

            “Oh,” Cass said.  “Is that important?”

            Sam looked at him cooly.  Then he pulled out a tablet device and began looking around in the burned building.  “How did they get in?”

            “The door,” Blake explained.  “They picked the lock and went inside.  Took all the cash in the register, smashed every piece of glass in the place including the mirrors in the restrooms, dumped booze all over everything and went on their way.  About a month later, it burned to the ground.  We’re fairly certain that the owner torched it for insurance.”

            “And this is another establishment with reported links to this King of Hell?”

            “Owner is a known business associate, actually,” Cass offered.  “This one, we could prove a link with one of the cover corporations the King of Hell is known to use.  Just no way to prove there was a connection with the crime, and of course, there’s no actual physical record of the King of Hell.  He remains an unknown.”

            “So, because you had a connection, you immediately decided that this was a hit by the Fat Boys?”

            “That, and the fact that the owner’s credit card for the business was used to purchase pastries,” Blake said.  “It’s actually when we started calling them Fat Boys, because the pattern of buying junk food on stolen cards started here.  You got that in those case notes you’re so fond of?”

            Sam went quiet for a moment.  He moved farther into the building, looking back and forth from his tablet, trying to reconstruct the building and the crime from the burnt-out wreck around him.

            Blake moved closer to his partner.  “He get downgraded to a six yet?”

            “He’s certainly heading there,” Cass reported.  “Nice ass on him, but personality counts for a lot.”

            “Amen.”

            “I’m sorry, did you say something?” Sam called back.  “Care to share with the rest of the class?”

            “My partner and I were just discussing your ass,” Cass informed him.

            Sam blinked at him.  “Excuse me?”

            “Your ass,” Cass repeated.  “We were discussing your ass.  As I am the resident homosexual on the force, Detective Shelton relies on my judgement to determine if self-absorbed federal alpha male dickheads are at least physically attractive.  You’re tall, built fairly well, and you happen to have a nice ass.  Therefore, you started out as an eight on the one to ten scale, ten being best.  But you’ve already been downgraded to a seven because of your charming personality.”

            “Right now, Cass is thinking about lowering it to a six,” Blake explained.  “You’re getting uglier every time you open your mouth, Sammy!”

            For a long moment, the agent simply stared at them.  Then he flushed in irritation.  “This is yet another prime example of why the two of you are unfit for your positions.  You realize this could qualify as sexual harassment?”

            “Now that you have voiced your opinion that you find my behavior offensive, in accordance with sexual harassment policies I will immediately cease and desist the offensive behavior,” Cass declared.  “I will refrain from any further discussion of your ass in your presence or hearing.”

            Blake made moon eyes at him.  “I love you, buddy!  C’mere and gimme a hug!”

            “Immediately cease and desist your offensive behavior, Shelton.”

            “I will be making a note of this in my report,” Sam threatened.

            “Spell our names right, please?” Blake requested, grinning.  “And make sure you include the fact that you’ve already been downgraded from an eight.”

            The radio squawked.  “Hey angel boys, you out there?”

            “We’re here, what’s up?” Blake responded.

            “We had a little incident back at the station after you boys left, and long story short, we got a runner,” the radio reported.  “They’re headed up your way.  We were wondering if maybe Cass might be interested in flying a kite today?”

            “Y’all should see the way his face just lit up,” Blake reported, looking at his smiling partner.  “We’ll be there.”

            “I’m sorry, what is this now?” Sam wanted to know.  “Flying a kite, is that some kind of code?”

            Blake smiled as Cass ran for the trunk.  “You could say that.”

            A minute later, a large kite featuring a picture of Garfield the cat was dancing in the air above the street.  Blake stood back at the car with the fuming FBI agent, watching Cass manipulate the kite next to the road.  “I know there is a reasonable, logical, and perfectly acceptable explanation for this,” Sam announced.  “But at the moment, I have absolutely no idea what it is!  Care to enlighten me?”

            “Watch and learn,” Blake offered.  “Cass here is a champion kite flier.”

            “While on duty?”

            “Yup!”

            “During an active pursuit?”

            “Yup!”

            “And your fellow officers involved in said active pursuit acknowledge and actually ask for this?”  Sam’s face was getting very red.  “This is something that the two of you have done in the past, probably more than once?”

            “You got it!”  Blake brightened as the sound of sirens grew closer.  “Alright, Sammy boy, pay attention!  You’re about to see some real police work in action!”

            Cass appeared to be unaffected by the sound of approaching sirens.  He smiled cheerfully as he made the kite dance at the end of the string, doing bold swoops and loops.  Somehow, he managed to avoid snagging the kite on the nearby trees and power lines.  But when the blue Ford Explorer leading the chase came closer, the cheerful smile turned into a wicked smirk.

            Garfield the cat dove through the air and plastered himself neatly against the windshield.

            Tires squealed and smoked, the Explorer swerving to a rapid stop by a driver suddenly unable to see anything except a grinning orange cartoon cat across his windshield.  The vehicle came to rest at the side of the road, and a moment later the driver was back in custody.

            Blake leaned casually back against the car, savoring the look on the agent’s face as Cass collected his kite and strolled back over.  Sam’s mouth worked, as though trying to speak but unable to find the words.  “That,” he finally managed, “was the most absurd thing I have ever seen!  I can’t even…!  How did you…?  What the fuck just happened?!”

            Blake stepped forward to give his partner a high five.  “What are you now, Cass?  Six for six?”

            “That was seven for seven, actually,” Cass replied.  “Three for Garfield, four for the astronaut before he tore.  I think Garfield’s still got at least one more in him!”

            “You the man!”

            Sam wandered off muttering.

            Cass grinned at Blake as he moved to replace the kite in the trunk.  “Did those assholes at the bureau even call you?” he asked quietly.  “Because I got nothing.”

            “I didn’t either, but I’m betting one of us gets a call tonight,” Blake replied.  “Sammy here is obviously in need of our special brand of training, but those fuckers need to start warning us first.”

            Cass shrugged.  “I’m sure they’ll argue that it’s not nearly as much fun.  But you’re right.  This guy is a real douchebag.  If we can straighten him out, local police everywhere will thank us.  But somehow, I’m thinking he might be a little harder than most.  The fact he’s out here alone is concerning.”

            “Eh, we’ll break him, just like we broke the last half a dozen walking stiffs they sent us,” Blake assured, closing the trunk over Garfield’s smiling face.  “Distracting while we’re looking for the Fat Boys, though.  We’ll just have to break him fast.”

            Cass eyed the agent, who was currently staring after the departing police cruiser, shaking his head in disbelief.  “We could take him through the Car Wash?” he suggested.

            “Great idea!”  Blake pulled out his cell phone and sent a rapid text.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun thinks it's funny that Cass seems to have no brain/mouth filter. Thinks that they're going to have their work cut out for them with this agent, though, and they won't get rid of him easily.


	4. Hot Heads And Cold Showers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean causes trouble with the police. Adam argues with Crowley about why he should bail them out again.

            “The silent treatment is really sexy, Adam,” Dean called.

            Adam ignored him.  He sulked at the table, twisting his wrists in the cuffs behind his back.  His face was set in a deep frown of disgust.

            Dean rolled his eyes.  “Just let me have it and get it off of your chest.”

            “You spit on a cop, Dean!”

            “He dodged!  And then he knocked me right on my ass.  Frankly, that surprised the shit out of me, but all cops are assholes, even hot ones with gorgeous blue eyes.  Did you see the way they all buddied up and denied it happened?  Fucking bullshit, man.  Just because we were under arrest didn’t mean they had to be dicks to us!”

            “You threatened to kick the arresting officer in the balls!”

            “Damn right I did!  He was way too rough when he cuffed me!  Damned cuffs are digging into my wrists.  There’s gonna be marks!  And then the way he shoved us into the car?  That was way out of line.  I want some damned respect!”

            Adam stared at him.  “You want respect after you told a highway patrol to suck your cock?”

            Dean shrugged.  “He was being a prick!  Said I couldn’t drive anymore!”

            “You can’t, you stupid shit!  You’ve been driving for two months on an expired license!”

            “So I forgot to renew it.  Sue me.  But they had no business pulling me over in the first place.  If he hadn’t done that, he wouldn’t have checked my license, they wouldn’t have impounded my Baby, and I’d still be driving!  So help me, if Baby gets a single scratch…!”

            “Dean, they pulled you over because you ran a stop sign while going twenty miles over the speed limit in a residential area!”

            “I had a need for speed.”

            “You wouldn’t have had that need if you hadn’t keyed the sides, slashed the tires, tore off the mirrors and smashed out every window of Behati’s car!  And then you set Mark the Musclehead’s on fire!”

            Dean leaned back.  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

            “You,” Adam declared, “are the biggest asshole I have ever met!”

            Dean batted his lashes at Adam.  “And yet you stay!”

            “I don’t have a choice.  Now that it’s over with Behati, I got nowhere else to go!”

            “I love you too, Adam.”

            “Fuck you.”

            “Promises, promises.”  Dean shifted, wincing as he pulled on the cuffs.  “They could have let us loose.  These cuffs are seriously way too tight.  I’m gonna lose circulation!  Isn’t this cruel and unusual punishment to make us sit in here in this cold room and not let us loose?”

            “Ask Crowley when he gets here.  If he gets here,” Adam amended.  “He did say that the next time we got ourselves arrested for a stupid reason he was going to leave us in here.”

            “Then we’re in luck!” Dean declared.  “This time, we got ourselves arrested for a very good reason!”

            “Dean, do you have a mouse in your pocket?” Adam exclaimed.  “Who is this ‘we’ you speak of?  I was sleeping off my hangover in the car when suddenly we get pulled over and the next thing I know you’re fighting with a cop!  Then I try to break it up and his asshole buddy throws me down and slaps the cuffs on me…”

            “Cool your jets,” Dean advised him cheerfully.  “You’re all red in the face.”

            “Of course I’m all red in the face!  I just got arrested because my best friend is a giant walking douche bag!”

            “Cool your jets or I’ll cool ‘em for you.”

            “I’d love to see you try that, Dean.”

            Dean looked at him and smiled.  The smile slowly grew wider until it was a smirk that covered his entire face.

            Adam stared at him in horror.  “You wouldn’t dare!”

            “Wanna bet?”

            And then the fire alarm was blaring.  Above them, the sprinkler system kicked on, dousing the two of them with cold water.

            Adam sputtered and spit water.  “You son of a bitch!”

            Dean only laughed.  “Come on, these cops need a cold shower anyway.  Wash the smell of corruption off of them.  Oh hey, check it out, looks like that guy’s making a break for it!  Run, Forrest, run!”

            Adam seethed and twisted until his back was to his friend.

            Dean chuckled and shook his head, sending water flying.  In retrospect, he supposed he’d certainly caused a lot of trouble.  Still, Dean reasoned, at least he’d gotten Adam’s mind off of The Bitch.  Dean didn’t regret what he’d done to The Bitch’s car or Muscleman Mark’s.  Hopefully, Adam wouldn’t find out that he’d also burned down the Mark’s fishing boat or ordered a grand or so of porn and sex toys on The Bitch’s credit card, to be delivered to her boss at work.

            A pissed-off cop in a suit stormed in, carrying a fire extinguisher.  “The heat sensor went off in here,” he announced.

            “Well, we are pretty hot,” Dean replied.

            “It’s obviously malfunctioning,” Adam said, kicking Dean under the table.  “How about turning it off?  It’s freezing, and we already had showers this morning.”

            The man’s perfectly styled brown hair had been ruined by the water and now lay flat and dripping against his scalp.  The blue eyes narrowed as he looked at the two.  “The sensors, and the whole fire system, were just checked last week.  Something is going on!”

            “Look, Chief Daly?  Yeah, I recognize you from your campaign posters all over town.  I’m sorry you wasted your money, but they clearly missed something in that inspection.  There is obviously no fire in here,” Adam pointed out.  “So how about taking these cuffs off of us, since you’re here?  They’re really too tight on Dean.”

            “Oh, I don’t think so.”

            “Why the hell not?” Adam challenged.  “We’re hardly going on a violent rampage in here!”

            Daly raised an eyebrow.  “Oh, really?  I heard you fought with my officers and then spit on one of my detectives.”

            “I had nothing to do with the spitting.  That was this asshole sitting next to me.”

            “Fuck you, Adam!  Besides, that detective dodged and then tripped me!”

            “He did trip Dean,” Adam agreed.  “That was really not cool.  You should talk to him about that!  Anyway, how about you turn off this water, take off the cuffs, and Dean and I can just sit here quietly until Crowley gets here?”  He gave Dean another kick on the word “quietly.”

            “That sounds like a lovely idea,” called a man coming into the door.  “Chief Daly, I’d like the cuffs removed from my clients please, and do please do something about these bloody sprinklers?”

            “They should be going off any minute.  See?”  Daly said as the water stopped.  “Disgusted to see you as always, Crowley.”

            “I assure you, the contempt is all mine.”  Crowley waited until Adam and Dean were uncuffed.  Then he gestured grandly towards the door.  “Thank you, and goodbye.”

            “Do me a favor?” Daly asked as he picked up his extinguisher and headed out.  “Try not to leave too much slime on the floor when you crawl back out of here?”

            “Ah, now he compares me to a slug, how marvelous!  I’m rather surprised you could tell my slime from the general ooze of corruption around here.  Perhaps it has less of an odor?”

            Daly slammed the door behind him.

            “Charming, as usual,” Crowley noted.  He took off his fedora and watched impassively as water dripped from the brim.  Then he looked up to see Adam and Dean solemnly pointing at each other.  He sighed.  “You two are a couple of denim-clad nightmares!” he exclaimed.  “Dean, I renewed your license, but it’s provisional.  Break any more traffic laws and it’s gone.  You’re also paying your own fines to get your precious Baby out of impound.  Adam, you’re being investigated for a couple of acts of vandalism against a couple of people associated with you.  One of them is Miss Behati Prinsloo.  I assume the two of you broke up?”

            “He ditched The Bitch,” Dean explained.  “I did the cars.”

            “And the boat?”

            “What boat?” Adam asked.  He glared at Dean, who looked innocent.

            “Alright, Dean for the boat as well,” Crowley sighed.  “Who spit on the cop?”

            Dean raised his hand.  “Me again.”

            “Is there any reason I shouldn’t leave you in here, Winchester?” Crowley exclaimed.  “Usually you both share in the transgressions more or less equally, but this time it rather looks as if this entire business is your fault!”

            “The cop dodged!” Adam defended.  “Besides, he tripped Dean!”

            “He did trip me,” Dean agreed.  “That moose in the suit with them called him Detective Novak.  Can I sue him?”

            “Unlikely.”  Crowley consulted a file he’d kept dry in his briefcase.  “Along with everything else, you’re both also accused of resisting arrest.  No surprise there, you two wankers have resisted every time you’ve been arrested.  And as we all know, you’ve been arrested entirely too many times!”  He shook his head.  “Bloody hell, the two of you only just got back into town!  I should leave you both in here for my own peace of mind!  I believe I told you I’d do just that if you got arrested again?”

            “No, you said you’d leave us in here if we got arrested again for a stupid reason,” Dean corrected.  “This time, we got arrested for a great reason!”

            Crowley swore.  “Tell me why you’re worth this much aggravation?”

            “Because we took down the office building and the server, got the file, followed the money, found the runner, and got the diamonds,” Adam declared.  “We cleared yet another mark off of your ledger, Crowley.  Don’t worry about what else Dean did because we got the job done like we always do.  Now, you want your best assets to sit in a cell so you can sip your tea in peace, fine.  We got a bet going anyway.  But I know you have more work for us, and we can’t do a damned thing from behind bars.  So pay our fines, grease the gears, get us out of here and get Dean’s precious Baby out of impound so we can get back to work!”

            Dean wanted to cheer.  Instead, he remained impassive, smiling pleasantly at Crowley while he digested what Adam had said.

            Finally, Crowley chuckled.  “The day will come when the two of you are more trouble than you’re worth.  That day is coming sooner than you think!”

            “Yeah, well, it’s not today,” Adam snapped.  “So get us out of here!”

            Dean made puppy eyes at the lawyer.  “Pretty please?”

            “Fine.”  Crowley stood back up, popped his soggy hat back on his head, and grimaced when water dripped down his face.  Then he headed out to get to work on freeing his clients.

****

            Adam wished he had some sound-reducing headphones, or at least earbuds.  Anything to block out the noise behind him so he could concentrate.  He frowned at the computer screen, trying to make some sense out of it.  As usual, Crowley had given them a slew of information with no rhyme or reason to it.  Throw it at them and let them sort through it, just like usual.  Wonderful.

            Behind him, Dean laughed as he tended to a giggling blonde beneath the blankets on the cheap motel room bed.  The blonde, Adam had no idea what her name was, had put an annoying amount of time and attention into trying to convince Adam to join her while Dean had made a snack run earlier.  Adam wasn’t interested.  Dean’s latest diversion likely didn’t mean any more than any he’d had before her, and he probably wouldn’t care if Adam had accepted her invitation.  It certainly wouldn’t be the first time they’d shared or had a threesome.  But the only thing Adam wanted to do was start sorting the mess of Crowley’s information so he could get started on this next job.  Crowley had told them this job was a big one.  Apparently, he hadn’t exaggerated.

            There was a loud thud, followed by laughter.  Dean and the blonde had just rolled off the bed.

            Adam rolled his eyes and went back to his work.  There was a trail of wire transfers leading to a local business right here in town.  That was unusual.  They typically didn’t do big jobs close to home.  Adam frowned.  They might actually end up passing on this one.  Crowley would be pissed, and would make them work twice as hard for a while, but he’d get over it.  He always did.

            Dean managed to overcome a million years of evolution long enough to tear his attention away from the blonde – he’d forgotten her name again – and look up at Adam.  “Adam!” he called.  “Put that away, get over here, and join us!”

            “We may need to talk about this one, Dean,” Adam called back distractedly.  “Violates rule one.”

            Rule one was “Don’t Shit Where You Eat.”  Apparently, something about this latest job was a little too close to home for Adam’s comfort.

            Then there was a set of breasts in his face and Dean forgot everything else for a moment.

            “Looks like it’s another big one,” Adam said as Dean tended to the breasts.  “Probably going to take a while.”

            It took Dean a moment to process what his friend had said.  When he realized Adam was still talking about the job, he rolled his eyes, got up, and casually switched Adam’s computer off.  When Adam yelled in protest, Dean shut him up with a hard kiss. 

            Adam shoved at him.  “Get off of me!  I have work to do!”

            “You’ve worked enough,” Dean ordered, ignoring Adam’s scowl.  “There is a very lovely lady who is interested in a threesome with the both of us right now.  Get up off your ass and go spank hers!”

            “Ooo, please?” the blonde pleaded.  She’d crawled back up onto the bed and had struck a very interesting pose.

            Adam looked in spite of himself.  The blonde was certainly attractive.  And the idea of a threesome was enticing.

            Dean saw the interest in his eyes and pulled Adam’s chair away from the desk, rolling it towards the bed.  “I know for a fact that you haven’t had anything around your cock besides your hand for about two weeks now,” he declared.  “And we haven’t had a threesome in over a year!  What do you say we break some laws here?”

            He saw Adam considering and winked at the blonde.  Her smile grew wider as she took the hint, crawling over the bed and reaching to undo Adam’s belt.  Dean grinned.  Nothing like a little strange to get your mind off of a broken relationship.

            He really hadn’t liked The Bitch anyway.  Adam deserved much better.  If his friend wouldn’t look for it, well, Dean was more than willing to find someone for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun says Crowley's a dick. Thinks these two are absolutely hilarious. Says they are a couple of wise asses and it's funny as hell.


	5. Leaping Lizards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carson is suspicious about what triggered the heat sensor. Sam demands to know what is going on and is directed to a local writer.

            Sam, soaked head to toe, stormed through the door of the Elemental Falls Police Department.  His shaggy hair was dripping wet, his clothes clung awkwardly to his body, and his sensible black shoes squished water with every step.  He irritably brushed hair out of his face, making the wet mop on his head somehow even more disheveled.  “The locker room!” he called.  “Where is it?  And I’ll need towels, and some dry clothes!”

            “It’s straight down the hall to the left,” Chief Daly called, eyeing the damp arrival.  “Marcus, could you assist him, please?”

            “Thank you,” Sam sniffed.  He squished down the hall where directed.

            Carson turned his attention to his two detectives, who had just come in behind the drenched FBI agent.  Both were perfectly dry.  “Car Wash?” he asked casually.

            “Car Wash,” Blake confirmed.  “He’s all pissy because he got his fancy tablet ruined.  That’s a damned shame, now our taxes will go up to pay for it.  Gotta love government employees.”

            “It’s a bit early for the Car Wash, isn’t it?” Carson noted.  “He piss you off that much already?”

            “You have no idea.  Cass!  You getting me a Pepsi?”

            Cass held up the can already in his hand.  “For the record?” he called, feeding more change into the vending machine, “I offered on three separate occasions to sit in the front passenger seat.  Our guest insisted on staying where he was.  Therefore, I decline any and all responsibility for his current saturated state.”

            “I actually needed to speak to the two of you anyway,” Carson said.  “Would you gentlemen please come and join me?”

            Cass grimaced, glad his back was turned.  Generally speaking, when the chief wanted to “talk” to the two of them, it usually involved a great deal of yelling and desk pounding, followed by hasty explanations and apologies from himself and Blake.  Cass wondered what they’d done wrong this time?

            Unfortunately, he could think of about half a dozen things just in the past month.

            Cass wordlessly trailed behind Blake, passing the larger man’s canned cola up to him and opening his own.  Normally, Cass preferred ginger ale, but today, he was wishing he’d gone for something with caffeine.  Carson’s yelling always gave him a headache.  Careful to pull the door to Carson’s office shut, he quickly took a seat next to Blake.

            But Carson had moved calmly behind his desk and lowered himself into his chair.  That was unusual.  The chief’s typical pattern was to start verbally assaulting the two detectives before the door was even closed.  The fact that Cass’s ears weren’t already ringing was strange and puzzling.  When the silence continued as Carson propped his elbows on his desk, folded his hands, and rested his chin on them with his eyes down and his face wrinkled in thought, Cass started to worry.  “Chief Daly?” he called.  “Is something wrong, Sir?”

            “We had an incident here at the station shortly after you left,” Carson explained.  “It resulted in the chase you were able to end, Cass.  But it’s not what ended the incident that bothers me.  It’s how it started.”

            The door opened and Sam, now wearing baggy sweatpants and a sweater, barged in.  Apparently he’d changed out of his wet clothing very quickly.  “What did I miss?” he asked, rubbing at his hair with a towel.  The result wasn’t pretty.

            Carson hesitated.  “This is internal police business,” he explained, “so if you don’t mind…?”

            “Oh, I mind!” Sam declared.  “You cannot even imagine how much I mind!  I came out here looking for your Fat Boys, but the longer I’m here, the weirder it gets.  I already intend to conduct a full investigation into the methods of your detectives here, Chief.  So how about filling me in on what I just missed?”

            Carson eyed the agent like he was a terrifying new species of wasp that could sting at any moment.  Cass figured he understood now exactly why he and Blake had jumped to the Car Wash so quickly.  The agent was little more than a bully, throwing his authority as a federal agent around and demanding, rather than asking, full cooperation from everyone he encountered.  That was one of the fastest ways Cass knew to get on Carson’s bad side.  Even the mayor knew better than to argue with Chief Daly.  Carson ran a tight ship despite what the arrogant agent implied, and he always stood up for his men.  One thing no one did was barge into his office, start making demands, and get away with it.  Cass leaned back, expecting Carson to argue.  But instead, the chief nodded and pointed out a folding chair he kept behind the door.

            Still toweling at his hair, Sam ignored the astonished looks of the two detectives, grabbed the chair and pulled it towards the desk.  “Ok!” he called.  “Loop me in.”

            “As I was saying when you walked in, shortly after the three of you left for Cow Patty’s, we had an incident here at the station.”  Cass was amazed at how calm the chief’s voice was.

            “This was the one that resulted in the runner Cass somehow managed to stop with a kite?” Sam asked.

            Carson nodded, looking somewhat surprised.  “Yes, it was!”

            “Mensa level genius, remember?” Sam reminded.  “Alright, continue.”

            Cass was impressed at how calm Carson remained even despite this additional rudeness.  “The reason the suspect was able to escape,” Carson said, “was because something tripped the fire alarms and the sprinklers went off.”

            “I wondered what happened to all the computers,” Blake said.  “I saw they were all gone when we came in.”

            “Does that also explain why you don’t have any styling product in your hair, Chief?” Cass asked.  “Nancy doesn’t either.  I’ve never seen her without her bangs teased three inches above her head!”

            “All of the above,” Carson confirmed.

            “Good to know I’m not the only one who had a cold shower today,” Sam said.  “What happened?  Suspect set something on fire and set off the smoke alarm?”

            “Actually, it was the heat sensor in one of the interrogation rooms,” Carson said.  “Two suspects were being held there, an Adam Levine and a Dean Winchester.  They…”  He paused when Sam quickly drew in his breath.  “Um, is something wrong, agent?”

            “No,” Sam replied slowly.  “It’s just that my last name is Winchester.  I had a brother named Dean.  Weird coincidence is all.”

            Cass frowned at him.  “Sure it’s not him?”

            That earned him a glare from the agent.  “Positive.  First, my brother wouldn’t be under arrest.  Second, Dean died when I was a baby.  I never knew him.  All I have of him and our dad are pictures and stories my mom told me.  So I don’t appreciate you smearing his memory!”

            Cass grimaced.  “My apologies.”

            Sam made an impatient gesture.  “Never mind, what about these suspects?”

            “As I said, they were being held in the room,” Carson continued, eyeing the agent.  “The heat sensor that tripped the alarm was directly above them.  But when I went in myself to check it out, nothing was there.  No fire, no heat, just the two of them sitting there soaking wet under the sprinkler griping at each other.”

            Cass straightened up in his chair and noted that Blake had done the same.  “Chief, you think we’re dealing with a leaping lizard?”

            “I think it’s worth looking in to,” Carson agreed.

            “Wait, what?” Sam exclaimed.  “Lizards now?  I swear, if this is another thing like flying a kite or that blasted car wash…!”

            “As I said before, it’s an internal affair,” Carson told him.  “And I assure you, in this town, we take it quite seriously.”  Turning back to Blake and Cass, Carson said, “I expect that the two of you will check this out.  Once we get the computers dried out and working again, I’ll have the files of both suspects sent to you.  As it stands, though, that may take a while.  So for now, just keep your eyes open.”

            “This is the problem with modernizing the force,” Blake sighed.  “Everything is computerized now, so if the computers go down, we’re all left in the dark.”

            “Paper records were prone to decay, getting lost, fire, water damage, and outright theft,” Cass pointed out.  “Losing the computers doesn’t mean we lost the data.  It’s all backed up.  In fact, if you could give me everything you do know about them, Chief?  I can look them up at home.”

            Carson handed him a piece of paper.  “This and their names are all I’ve got.  Winchester signed it to get his car out of impound.  He’s driving a black 1967 Chevy Impala, Kansas plates, license number CNK 80Q3.  But as you can see, for his address, he put the Last Stand.”

            “Their address is Hooker Hotel?  Great,” Blake sighed.  “Cass, as senior detective, I nominate you to go down there first thing tomorrow morning and check these two out.”

            Cass sputtered.  “You want me to go to Hooker Hotel and check out a possible leaping lizard by myself?  You’re not coming with me?”

            Blake jerked a thumb at Sam.  “Take Sammy with you.”

            “You must be joking!”

            “What the actual fuck are we doing?  Someone make sense!” Sam demanded.

            “Blake?” Cass began.  “While it is not unheard of for a team of detectives to work two different portions of a case independently, might I remind you that past practice dictates that when approaching potentially dangerous suspects, it is customary to…”

            “Whoa, hold your horses!” Blake exclaimed.  “I didn’t say a damned word about approaching these two assholes, ok?  Just swing by the motel, see if the car’s there, maybe talk to the desk clerk and see if you can learn anything.  Do not, under any circumstance, approach them!”

            “And where, exactly, will you be while I’m doing this?”

            “Might I draw your attention to what you interrupted this morning?”

            Cass’s shoulders slumped.  “Oh.”

            “Yeah, ‘Oh’ is right!” Blake declared, frowning.  “Gwen texted me earlier and said her mom needed her, so she’s spending the night up there.  That means we miss an entire day!  So if I don’t tend to business tomorrow, my wife is going to have my balls for breakfast.  That’s your fault, Cass, so you get to finish this up.”  He rose, slapping an unhappy Cass on the shoulder.  “Sammy, take care of him, would you?  He’s an asshole, but I’m kind of fond of the little guy.”

            “Little?  I’m six feet tall!  Alright, upon reflection, I must confess that when compared to you and Sam, I suppose I must look rather short, but that’s just attributed to my current proximity to two men who are above average in height!  Among the general population, a man of my height is considered…”

            “Just be careful, alright?” Carson interrupted.  “Remember what you might be dealing with.”

            “I can handle a lizard,” Cass sighed.  “We’ve dealt with them before.”

            “I know, Novak, and that is precisely why I’m hoping that I’m wrong.  Shelton, reconsider going with them?”

            “Someone needs to tell me right now what this ‘lizard’ thing is,” Sam insisted.  “I’d blow it off as another bullshit hazing ritual, but the three of you are way too serious right now.  I don’t think you’re that good of actors.  You honestly believe that these suspects are a real threat!  If I’m going up against…”

            “You certainly don’t need to accompany me,” Cass assured.  “In fact, I would honestly prefer if you didn’t.  You simply aren’t equipped to deal with something like this.”

            It was the wrong thing to say, and as soon as Cass saw the agent’s green eyes darken in anger, he knew that nothing else anyone could say or do would keep Sam from accompanying him to the motel.

            “Well!” Blake called cheerfully.  “Now that we got that settled, Cass, since I am forced to bach tonight, you’re coming home with me.”

            “I accept your invitation.”

            “I’m going back to my hotel to see if I can salvage anything from my tablet,” Sam grumbled.  “But tomorrow morning, Cass?  I expect an explanation of what this ‘lizard’ thing is all about.  Do I make myself clear?”

            “Oh, absolutely, Your Majesty!” Blake said, rising and giving a small bow.

            “I would be willing to tell you what you want to know,” Cass offered.  “But I assure you, you will not believe me, likely not listen to the entire explanation, call me crazy, and threaten me in some manner.  All of these things would be perfectly in line with your recent behavior.  That being said, if you want to know the history of this town, I suggest you look up a man named Robert Singer.”

            “Mr. Singer is a local writer and a bit of a recluse,” Carson explained.  “He lives in a beat-up old trailer out by the junkyard at the edge of town.”

            “I would strongly advise that you don’t call it a junkyard,” Cass said.  “He calls it a ‘scrapyard.’  Sells auto parts and that sort of thing.  Writing is just a side job for him.  He’s never been published, but he prints out guides and history pamphlets for tourists.  Not that we get a lot of tourists, and almost all of them are New Age hippy types, but…”

            “Give me the guy’s address and I’ll check him out on my own time,” Sam demanded.  “In fact, I’m going there now.  But I swear, if this is another attempt to haze me…!”

            “It’s not,” Carson assured, scribbling the address on a post-it and handing it to the agent.  “But I’m fairly sure, after you speak with Bobby, that you’ll believe it is.”

****

            “You know, I think we might actually have a bit of trouble with this guy,” Blake grumbled over his beer.

            “I actually was thinking the same thing,” Cass reported, taking a sip from his own bottle.

            Blake had changed into his usual flannel and blue jeans.  His bare feet were up on the coffee table as he sat on the reclining sofa with his partner.  Cass’s concession to casual dress was to remove his tie and suit jacket, leaving both on the coat rack with his trench coat.  The two were currently watching a football game, but Cass didn’t think either of their minds was actually on the game.  He turned and studied his partner.  “Do you think we should have called Bobby and warned him?”

            “Hell no,” Blake called.  “Way more fun this way.  Besides, if anyone can handle that overgrown punk, Bobby’s the guy.”

            “I suppose you’re right.”  Cass chewed on his lower lip.  Then he took a deep breath and plunged ahead.  “Blake, Gwen told me something about you.  About the whole fertility thing and the tests you both did?”

            Blake suddenly went still.  “She told you the problem’s me?”

            “She mentioned that you have a low sperm count, yes, but that’s…”

            “I’m going to stop you right there,” Blake growled.  “Yeah, I got a low count.  That’s why I switched to boxers and started taking vitamins.  I’m over forty, buddy!  Fact is, we waited too long, and now we’re both nearing the end of our fertility.  Right now, she’s fine, and the problem is me.  So in a couple months, if we don’t catch pregnant, we’ve got an appointment with the fertility clinic.  Meanwhile, I don’t feel like less of a man or inadequate or anything like that, so while I appreciate your concern, it’s not necessary.”

            “Actually, that’s not it,” Cass said slowly.  “I actually wanted to tell you…”

            “Drop the subject, Cass, alright?”

            “But Blake…!”

            “Listen, college boy, I know you originally wanted to be a mental health counselor before you decided to become a cop instead, but I don’t need psychoanalyzed, ok?  Now shut up, drink your beer, and watch the game.”

            Cass immediately went silent.  But his heart was pounding.  He hadn’t wanted to talk to Blake about his fertility issues.

            He’d wanted to talk to him about his wife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have a couple of very sick puppies at the house, so this is late and Mr. Fun didn't get to hear it. I'll post his comment on the next chapter.


	6. The Legend of Elemental Falls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam visits Bobby Singer and learns the history of the town

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All Mr. Fun said about the previous chapter was that he wants to know what a leaping lizard is. Looks like he'll find out here!

          When Sam knocked on the door, he wasn’t sure what to expect.  He’d tried to prepare for anything.  If those clowns were setting him up for another soaking, or maybe tar and feathers this time?  Sam had every intention of calling the field office and demanding an official investigation.

           What Sam hadn’t prepared himself for was no one at all answering the door.

           He tried the knob, but it didn’t move. Locked.  “Hello?” he called, pounding again.  “Federal agent!  I was told to speak with you?”

           No answer.  But listening closely, Sam could hear the faint sound of music.  He started walking, his long legs moving him quickly around the building and back towards a large garage.  The garage appeared to be bigger, and in much better repair than, the house.  The music was coming from inside.  As he drew closer, he noticed a pair of feet sticking out from under a rusting Mustang. “Excuse me!” he yelled.

           The feet were propelled forward, exposing a set of legs, a body, and finally a grizzled, scowling, bearded face topped by a ball cap.  “Yeah, what the hell do you want?”

           “Are you Robert Singer?”

           The man’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Depends entirely on who’s asking.”

           Sam flashed his badge.  “Agent Sam Winchester, FBI.  I was told to come here and speak to Mr. Singer, that he could answer some questions about the town?”

           “About the town?”  The man grunted and pulled himself to his feet.  He wiped his greasy hands on his pants and extended one to Sam. “Then I’m your man.  It’s Bobby, by the way.  Nice to meet you, Sammy.”

           Sam gingerly shook hands, wincing as grease transferred onto his hand from Bobby’s strong grip.  He stared for a moment at the grease.  Bobby handed him a marginally clean rag, which he used to clean up.  “Chief Carson and Detectives Shelton and Novak told me to talk to you.  Said you could explain what leaping lizards are.”

           “Balls!  Boy, you get your lanky ass back to that police station and tell those assholes that I’m not a damned theatre critic and they can tell you about ‘Annie’ themselves! Hell, Shelton can sing the songs for you, he’s got a heluva voice.”

           Sam blinked.  “…What?”

           Bobby stared at him for a moment.  Then he sighed.  “You never saw ‘Annie?’  What the hell are they teaching kids these days?”  Seeing the blank, baffled expression on the face of the young FBI agent, Bobby sighed again.  “Just get in the damned house, would you, kid?  Let me clean up a bit and I’ll tell you about the leaping lizards, the garden gnomes, the airheads, and the mermaids.”

           Sam blinked again.  “…What?”

           Bobby groaned.  “Just give me a minute.”

           Approximately a minute later, Bobby had seated Sam at his table and put a beer in front of him.  Sam initially tried to refuse, saying he was on duty.  But Bobby glared so fiercely at him that Sam found himself meekly accepting the beverage.

           Bobby sat down across from him, his own beer in one hand and a thin paperback book in the other.  He held the book aloft.  “This is going to cost you $1.50, which is less than you should be paying for it by buying it off of the hotels or gas stations where I sell it.  Ante up!”

           Sam gingerly reached for his wallet, produced the money, and handed it over.  Bobby made the money vanish into a pocket as he slapped the book in front of Sam. “The town is called Elemental Falls for a reason,” he began.  “Long ago, in the days of magic…”

           “Ok, it’s been a pleasure speaking with you,” Sam called, rising.  “But I’m afraid I really must be…”

           “Sit down.”

           “Look, this is obviously yet another hilarious attempt by those two hick detectives to try to haze me by sending me to the town drunk to listen to fairy tales,” Sam snapped.  “I have neither the time nor the patience.  Now excuse me.”

           “The town drunk?”  Bobby shrugged.  “I suppose I might qualify some days.  But I didn’t write that book from the bottom of a bottle, boy.  You said your name’s Winchester?  Your parents wouldn’t be John and Mary, would they?”

           Sam froze in the act of reaching for the door. “How the hell did you know that?”

           “Because you’re here, asking about the lizards, and your name’s Winchester,” Bobby declared.  “You ever find Dean?”

           And now Sam turned around to face him.  “What do you mean, find Dean?  Dean’s dead!  He and dad died in a car accident when I was little more than a baby!  I don’t even remember them!”

           Bobby grew very still.  “I see,” he said.  “Your mom around?”

           “Yeah, why?”

           “Because that story is hers to tell, not mine,” Bobby declared.  “You want to hear the story you came here to hear?  That I’ll tell you, but only if you sit down and drink your beer.”

           Sam rolled his eyes.  “You act as though you know some great secret about my past, but you won’t tell me that.  You want to talk about fairy tales!”

           “Not fairies,” Bobby corrected. “Elementals.  Now, if you want to hear this story, sit your ass down. Otherwise, get out of my sight! Because I’m not telling you shit about your family, not if your own flesh and blood won’t tell you.  So make your choice, kid, because I got about this much time.”  He held his fingers about an inch apart.

           Sam hesitated, torn.  Then he sighed and returned to the table.  “I must be out of my mind listening to this.  Ok, so once upon a time, there was magic.”

           “Real magic,” Bobby insisted.  “A whole other world, just beyond the veil.  And behind that veil, the spirits of the elements took physical form.  The spirits of the earth were called pygmy spirits and took the form of gnomes.”

           “Mom had a few in her garden,” Sammy said. “At least she did until I broke them using them as targets for my BB gun.”

           Bobby apparently chose to ignore this.  “The spirits of the water were called undine spirits.  These were the mermaids and the mermen.”

           “Did they wish they could be part of our world?” Sam asked dryly.

           “Yes, but you’re moving ahead and it won’t make sense.  So shut up and listen.”

           Sam closed his mouth in spite of himself.  He had no idea why, but for some reason he almost found himself intimidated by this grizzled older man.

           “Then there were the sylphs, the air spirits, which tend to be made out of clouds, or invisible.  Those are also the ones who tend to be represented as winged pixies. And finally there were the fire spirits, called salamanders.  These were lizards, like dragons.”

           “Fascinating.”  Sam had folded his hands on the table and appeared to be paying rapt attention. “Now for another $1.50, are you going to offer a guided tour?”

           “Actually, if you’re here asking about a lizard, then by the sound of things you should be the one offering the guided tour,” Bobby retorted.  “Have a suspicious fire somewhere?”

           “No, just more hazing,” Sam sighed.  “The heat sensor in one of the interrogation rooms malfunctioned, and now, apparently, I’ve been sent here to learn about salamanders.”

           “Maybe it was?” Bobby offered.  “If you want to hear the rest of the story, I can tell you why.”

           Sam gestured for him to continue.

           Bobby wet his whistle with another pull from his bottle and continued.  “The elemental spirits, except for a few squabbles here and there, generally got along alright.  The pygmies were solid, sensible types who didn’t care much for change.  The sylphs were, well, a bit air-headed, tended a bit towards being flighty at times, but were the most flexible and the best able to adapt to change.  Then the undines were usually pretty cool-headed, but moody at times like the tides. In temperament, they were a lot like glaciers, slow to move but damned near impossible to stop once they got going. And the salamanders, well, those were the hot heads.  They tended to stick together, but they flew off the handle frequently, were constantly in need of some form of distraction, and usually were at the center of any real trouble.  Now granted, these are generalizations, basic personality types, and there was always variation.”

           “Wow, you talk about them precisely like they were people, or at least non-fictional,” Sam noted.

           “Shut up, I’m talking,” Bobby told him.  “Where was I?  Ah hell with it, I’ll just skip ahead.  Times started changing, and magic began to die out as humans grew more numerous and turned their backs on the old ways.  And the elemental spirits suffered the worst from it.  Even though all the elements of nature were still there, when the humans began to reshape the natural world to suit their own needs, the elemental spirits suffered even more.  And they rapidly began to die out.  The pygmies wanted to wait it out, and the undines agreed.  But the sylphs and the salamanders wanted some action.  The salamanders wanted to fight, drive the humans back and reclaim the natural world.  The sylphs had a better idea.  Always adaptable to change, they looked for a way to adapt.  And they found it.  They gathered up the strongest, most virile males of all four elemental groups and hid them at the waterfalls.  And when the young human maidens came to draw water from the falls, well, by the time they left they weren’t maidens anymore.”

           “So, they made human-spirit hybrids?” Sam asked dryly.  “Your story has spirit rape.  I just paid $1.50 for a story featuring spirit rape!”

           “You want to tell this story?”

           Sam felt himself wilt.  “Sorry, go on,” he heard himself saying humbly.  What the hell was wrong with him?

           Bobby picked up where he left off as though he hadn’t been interrupted.  “The result was a hybrid mixture of a human body, which was capable of surviving in a land all but devoid of magic, and an elemental spirit.  These were the descendants of the Mi’kmaq nation of Native Americans, who were the original residents of this town.  Hell, most of the families here have Native American blood, myself included.  Your family does, too, Sammy!  And just look at their religion if you want further proof. You got their nature-based spirit lodges, with the earth lodge at the center…”

           “This is incredible. You actually believe this!” Sam exclaimed.  “You’ve done research on it and everything!”

           “Why the hell do you think this town is called Elemental Falls?  It’s because of this history!” Bobby insisted.

           “Ok, I get it, you believe it, good for you.  I happen to have my doubts.”

           “Well, kid, I hate to tell you this, but you may have to put your doubts on the shelf shortly. Because there’s also another, darker side to the name of the town.  There came a time, shortly after the area was colonized by white settlers, that those born with elemental powers weren’t revered or worshipped any longer, but feared and decried as witches.  And that, Sammy, is why you don’t see elementals casually firing off their powers in the streets.  Because they started drowning the salamanders, hanging the pygmies, stoning the undines, and burning the sylphs, all right there at the falls as a warning to any remaining elemental spirits.  To this day, you can go out and see the stake where they burned the sylphs, the tree where they hung the pygmies, the rock pile they used to stone the undines, and, way down underwater in the deepest part of the falls, the ring bolted to the rock where they’d chain the salamanders.  This town represented the rise and the fall of the elementals.  And Sammy, your family played a role in it!  Your ancestors were among the founders, just like mine, and both of our families have a lot of elemental blood on their hands.”

           “Alright, you need to stop talking about my family like you know us,” Sam warned.

           “I do know ya!  I held you and changed your shitty diaper when you were a baby, you little punk, you and that brother of yours!  Hell, I babysat you both more than once!  You were always a screamer, Sammy, always getting into things and places you shouldn’t be and getting yourself into trouble. But little Deanie, well, you couldn’t have asked for a better big brother.  Every time you fell down and bumped your knees or your noggin, Deanie was right there to pick you up, clean you off, and make it all better.”

           “Stop!” Sam yelled, pounding a fist on the table.  “Do not talk about my brother!  Even if you did know me, I’m not the same guy, alright?”

           “Fair enough,” Bobby said amicably.  “I’m the local expert on elementals, not family ties or pop psychology.  So I’ll finish telling you about elementals, because it sounds like you’re about to go up against one.  I know, I know, it’s crazy hazing bullshit,” he called as Sam opened his mouth.  “You came all this way, Sammy, so hear me out, ok?  There’s a few things you need to keep in mind about elementals.  First, they don’t have any idea what they are until they’re grown men and women because the powers don’t manifest until adulthood, around twenty or so.  Try to imagine that, would you?  You’ve gone along, living your life, and then one day, bam!  You’ve got elemental powers.  The advantage there is that you’re usually stable and in full command of your facilities by the time the powers manifest.    Second, they didn’t choose to be what they are.  Third, the power runs in families, passing from either parent to the firstborn son or daughter.  Even if two elementals with different elemental powers marry and have a kid, that kid will only take on one of the powers.  But the firstborn always inherits the power.  That means that an elemental who has a child knows that first child is always another elemental.  And any other children, while they're usually not elementals themselves, carry the gene.  It’s rare, but there’s a chance that they could have a child that develops into an elemental, too.  Remember that, Sammy.”

           “Ok, I’ll remember,” Sam agreed, mystified.

           “Now, you obviously don’t think much of our local police, but I’m here to tell you, don’t underestimate them,” Bobby warned.  “Because the last elemental to manifest in this town was a salamander. Unfortunately, he wasn’t all that stable to start with.  When his powers manifested a couple years ago, he went completely off the rails. Started terrorizing the town.  And it was Shelton and Novak who took him down, right at the falls.  That’s what got Novak promoted to detectives, even though he was only two years on the force!”

           Sam straightened. “Mr. Singer, are you telling me those two men became detectives as a reward because they murdered someone they believed was a salamander?”

           “No, I’m telling you that they took down a dangerous, out of control salamander by luring him to the falls and using the devices that are still there to this day that were specifically developed to destroy elementals, don’t you listen?” Bobby snapped.  

           “The devices that… They drowned a man?” Sam exclaimed.

           “Whatever you may think of those two detectives, don’t underestimate them.  They may be small town, but both of their families have a long history here and they know how to deal with elementals!  The Sheltons moved out for a while, went down to Oklahoma for some damned reason or another, and Blake came back about six years ago. That man may be a hillbilly, but he’s tough as nails.  The Novaks are in and out of the area for years, but that family’s as old as mine.  Cass may not look, or act, the part, but he’s smart, intuitive, and fast on his feet.  He’s the one who came up with the idea to lure that salamander to the falls, and Blake put himself in real danger to make it happen.  Those two risked their lives to put that son of a bitch down, you hear me?”

           “Alright, I hear you,” Sam said.  He was already putting together his report in his mind.  The situation here in Elemental Falls was far worse than he’d thought.  “I do have one question, though,” he asked.  “Do you have any idea why they sent me out here to find all this out from you?”

           “Well, I can think of two reasons,” Bobby said, ruefully peering with one eye into his now-empty bottle. “One, they’re hoping you write us all off as insane, write some nasty report that makes you look even crazier than you think we are, and you end up a laughingstock.”

           “I see,” Sam said, mentally trashing his report.  So much for Plan A.  He’d have to find some other way to deal with this situation.  “And what,” he asked aloud, “might be the other reason?”

           “They think you’re going to stick around, so they’re trying to prepare you,” Bobby explained. “Because they seem to believe they’ve found another one.”

           “Another what? Salamander?”

           “You got a better reason why they’d send you to me?”  Bobby flipped his empty bottle expertly over one shoulder.  It sailed in a tight arc and landed squarely in the trash.  He would have done wonderfully in the NBA.

           “So, you think they think they’ve found another salamander.  And what, you think they’ll try to kill this one, too?”

           “If you’re here today asking about salamanders?  Then it sounds like the boys are back in action.  They’re just letting you prepare yourself for what’s coming.”

           “And that means, what exactly?”

           “That,” Bobby declared, “means it’s time for another elemental to fall.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun announced, "It's time for another elemental to fall!" in a movie announcer voice and made dramatic music. He considers himself very funny.


	7. Shotgun Shuts His Cakehole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean works on his Baby. Adam looses his cool. Bobby is up to something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Diegetic music here is, obviously, "Carry On My Wayward Son" by Kansas, which fans of "Supernatural" will probably recognize as the unofficial theme song for the show. I couldn't resist.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=orqnZBYEn38

           The cheerful harmony of Kansas played from the speakers in the garage.   _“Carry on, my wayward son! There’ll be peace when you are done. Lay your weary head to rest…”_

            _“Shut that shit the fuck up!”_ Dean bellowed, hurling a wrench towards the radio.

           “Fuck me!” Adam yelped, narrowly dodging the wrench and quickly switching off the radio. “Alright, already!  Damn, Dean, what is it with you and Kansas?  Did they piss in your Wheaties or what?”

           “I got nothing against Kansas,” Dean grumbled, ducking back under the hood of his Baby.  “I just cannot stand that fucking song!”

           Adam shook his head. “You know, if you wouldn’t have been driving like a maniac, you probably wouldn’t have a knock in your engine right now.”

           “Bullshit,” Dean called from under the hood.  “This happened because those damned cops didn’t treat my Baby right when they impounded her.  Bastards!”

           “Oh, it was the tow that did this, then, and not the way you left the scene of the crime like a bat out of hell, picked me up, and then kept going, right?”

           “Damned right!”

           Adam sighed. “Dean, you seriously have to pay a bit more attention to applicable traffic laws.  Next time your car gets impounded, I’m probably not going to be able to talk Crowley into getting it out for you again.  The fine couldn’t have been cheap!  If he’d really made you pay for it yourself, we’d probably have to leave it…”

           “Like hell!  We’d manage.”

           “Sure, if we passed on eating and slept in the car until we could finish another job!”

           “I’d just pimp you out.”

           Adam shook his head. “You don’t seem to get the seriousness of the situation, Dean.  The next time this car gets impounded, in all likelihood it could be difficult for us to get it back out!  Weird pseudo-sexual feelings that you have for the damned thing aside, your Impala is the closest thing either of us really has for a home, we practically grew up in it, and I’d prefer not to lose it.  Plus, you’re on a provisional license now!  You’re one step away from losing your license, buddy.  From now on, I’m driving!”

           “Like hell you are!” Dean retorted, digging through his toolbox for another wrench.

           “It makes logical sense!”

           “No.”

           “Come on, Dean!”

           “Did I stutter?” Dean wondered, peering around the hood to glower at Adam.  “What part of ‘No’ was in any way unclear?  If you have to drive Baby somewhere, that’s fine as long as you’re damned careful.  But if I’m in the car, I’m in the driver’s seat.”

           “Fine!  Can I at least pick the music?” Adam pleaded.  “I’m getting tired of classic rock.”

           Dean, who had disappeared behind the hood again, snorted.  “If I told you once, I told you a thousand times.  Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole!”

           “Well, since we’re back on the subject of music, let me ask you this.  What do you have against ‘Carry On My Wayward Son’ anyway, Dean?  Every time you hear that song, you scream to shut it off! It’s a classic!  You love classic rock!”

           “I love classic rock except for that song.  It grates on my nerves and makes my teeth hurt! Therefore, we have a standing rule. If it ever comes on, turn it off until it’s over!”

           Adam shook his head in bewilderment.  “Why?”

           “Because I’m the driver!”

           “Dean, you never let me drive!  You just told me in no uncertain terms that if you’re in the car, you’re driving.  If you never let me drive, then I never get to pick the music!”

           Dean tossed the wrench he was trying to use back into the toolbox and rooted around for another.  “That pop shit you listen to sucks anyway.”

           “Does not!”

           “Does so!  Now throw me that damned wrench back, would you, Adam?  It’s apparently the only one I got that’s the right size.”

           Adam grumbled and fetched the wrench, walking over to hand it to Dean.  “I got through most of what was on the flash drive, by the way,” he said.  “I could use some help with the rest?”

           “Sure,” Dean replied, distracted as he put the wrench to use.  “First, I gotta finish here.  Then I get cleaned up, change, and make a snack run.”

           “Why the hell didn’t you make the snack run before we got here?”

           “I forgot.  You distracted me with that damned song!”

           “You’re such an asshole, Dean!  You’re going to screw off and leave me to puzzle out this flash drive all by myself, as usual.”

           “I told you I’ll help after the snack run.  Need pie!”

           “You always need pie! You’re addicted to pie!  I need to get you an intervention, Dean, get you checked into some sort of pastry rehab facility!”

           “Right after you blow me, Adam.”

           “Balls!  Don’t you two ever stop bickering at each other?”

           The two looked up to see Bobby Singer strolling into the garage.  He carried an open bottle of beer in one hand and two more in the other. “What are you two hotheads fighting about now?” he asked as he passed out the beer.

           “The usual,” Adam reported.  “The fact that Dean is a lazy douchebag who’s making me do all the work.”

           “I don’t see your tattooed ass down here covered in grease, Adam!” Dean retorted.

           “Oh, I stand corrected.  Dean is a lazy douchebag and makes me do all the work with everything except his precious clunker!”

           “Boy, that is a classic car!” Bobby defended. “You watch your mouth!”

           “Thank you, Bobby,” Dean called, taking a drink.

           “Damned motorheads sticking together,” Adam grumbled. “No worries, Dean.  I’m just trying to figure out this job we’re supposed to do so we have enough money to take care of your precious Baby and keep food in our stomachs and a roof over our heads.  It’s not like it’s important or anything!”

           Bobby eyed him.  “What are you so bitchy about?”

           “He dumped The Bitch after he caught her cheating on him.”

           “Thank you for just announcing that, Dean!” Adam scowled and drained nearly half the bottle in one go.

           Bobby eyed him.  “Adam, can I have a word with you a moment?”

           “Now what did I do?” Dean complained. “Whatever you’ve got to say, we’re both twenty-eight, so if he’s old enough to hear it, I am, too!”

           “Fine.  An FBI agent came by last night, wanting to know about salamanders.”

           Both of the younger men froze in the act of drinking.  Adam lowered his bottle and fixed Bobby with a steady gaze.  “I didn’t kill anyone, Bobby.  I didn’t even hurt anyone, not that I’m aware of, and the old charges were dropped for lack of evidence.  So I have no idea why the FBI would be looking for me again.”

           “He’s telling the truth, Bobby,” Dean assured. “That was a long time ago, and he hasn’t lost control since.  Trust me, I’ve been keeping a real close eye on him!”

           “The yoga and meditation really work!” Adam insisted.  “I’m pretty much always calm.”

           Dean nodded.  “He’s a grouch, and angsty, but yeah, he’s cool.”

           “Thank you, Dean.”

           Bobby visibly relaxed.  “Good.  Because I gotta tell you, Adam, I love you like a son.  But I loved Dean’s brother Adam, too.  And I still let him get lured to the falls when he crossed the line.” Bobby suddenly seemed much older.

           “He wasn’t your fault, Bobby,” Dean said quietly. “You did as much as you could for him.”

           “Bullshit.  I could have done more, tried harder to reach him.  I should have tried harder into talking your dad into staying!” Bobby insisted.

           “John Winchester’s A+ parenting skills would not have helped Adam Milligan,” Adam growled.  “Dean lived with that bastard all his life, and I lived with him most of mine.  Didn’t we turn out as fine, upstanding citizens?”

           “John tried his best!” Bobby defended.  “His methods were shit for certain, and taking the two of you into the business is something I’ll never forgive him for. But he raised you the best he could, considering the circumstances.”

           “The son of a bitch kidnapped us!” Adam insisted. “He kidnapped his own kid from his mom when he lost custody, and then he kidnapped me from mine when his buddy died because he knew we were both firstborn and we’d both be salamanders! Dean and I spent our whole lives on the run, bouncing from place to place, constantly left alone in cheap motel rooms, and don’t even get me started about the training!  We know three different forms of martial arts, we’re crack shots, we can field strip damn near any weapon available, and we’re walking encyclopedias when it comes to salamander powers.  We knew how to use our powers before we actually had them!”

           “But look at everything we lost in return!” Adam went on.  “We don’t know what a normal life is, Bobby.  We’ve never been in one place long enough to make friends, so all we have is each other.  And we couldn’t get any kind of a decent job because we have no job experience, no references, we don’t even have GEDs!  Working for Lucifer was all we knew, and then we ended up with Crowley when he split off, and now we live the same way we always have.  We’re still living in motel rooms, Bobby!  Behati was the closest thing either of us ever had to a serious relationship.  We’re tramps, vagrants, hired thugs!  And the only reason that Adam Milligan escaped that and actually got to grow up semi-normal was because, even though he was his mother’s first born, she was normal, and John already had Dean.  It was just bad luck he turned out to be another salamander.  And if you really want the truth, Bobby?  If fucking John had just stayed the hell out of his life completely instead of popping in and out of town the way he did, Adam might still be alive!  He flipped out because when he manifested as a salamander, he was terrified John would come back and drag him away, just like he took me and Dean!”

           “Dammit, Adam, you don’t know that!” Bobby protested.

           “Yes, I do!” Adam insisted.  “And do you know why, Bobby?  Because that’s precisely what I would have done if it had been me! Fuck John!”  Adam was yelling now.  “Fuck him right up the ass!  I hope he’s rotting in hell!  And so help me, Dean, I know he’s your father and I love you like a brother, but I’ll tell you the truth.  If I knew where the son of a bitch was buried, I’d go piss on his grave!”

           “Adam?” Dean called softly.  “Cool down, brother.  Your beer’s boiling in the bottle.”

           “Wha…?  Aw, fuck!” Adam hurled the boiling beer into the dumpster.  “Dammit! I know how it looks, Bobby, especially now, but my original point still stands.  That sort of shit there, accidentally boiling or melting things or setting things on fire?  That’s the worst it’s been since that day, alright?  But I get the hint.  Soon as Dean’s finished with his Baby, we’re out of here.  I’ll call Crowley from the road, tell him we can’t do the job. Honestly, I was thinking about saying no anyway.”

           “Hold your horses,” Bobby cautioned.  “Now, I’ll admit it looks pretty suspicious, this agent showing up here asking about salamanders right when the two of you roll back into town…”

           “Yeah, it kind of does,” Dean agreed.  His eyes were on Adam, who had dropped into a chair and appeared to be meditating.

           “But remember where you are,” Bobby continued. “In this town, being an elemental isn’t exactly a one in a million thing!  That means there’s a chance this FBI agent might be looking for a different salamander.  Before you uproot and go back into hiding, piss off Crowley again and end up with another bounty on your heads?  Why don’t you try to find out what this agent’s really after?”

           Dean eyed him.  “What do you mean?”

           “I think you should just talk to him.”

           “Seriously?  You think I should walk up to an FBI agent and say, ‘Hey, dude, what are you investigating today?’  I’m sure he’d tell me right away!”

           “No, ya idjit!  Just strike up a conversation, get a feel for the guy.”

           “I’ll do it,” Adam called, rising from the chair and looking much calmer.  “I’ll go in disguise, and…”

           “Balls!  Adam, you couldn’t act your way out of a paper bag,” Bobby announced.  “And your disguises are all shit.  If he’s after you, he’ll jump on you as soon as you’re in sight.  It’s gotta be Dean.”

           “I’m a known associate!” Dean protested.  “If he sees me, he’ll know Adam’s close by! Adam may as well walk up to him undisguised and say, ‘Hey, here I am, arrest me and throw me into some science facility or some other federal black hole where no one will ever see me again!’ I really do not understand the plan here, Bobby.  Please enlighten me?”

           “Here’s the thing, Dean.  As far as this agent knows, you don’t know he’s looking for you, or even that he’s an FBI agent.  That gives you an advantage.  If you go up to him, you can gauge his reaction to you, find out if he recognizes you. If he does, then you know he’s here after Adam.  But if he doesn’t?  Then you know you’re safe.  That’s the point!  Didn’t John teach you idjits anything about recon?”

           Dean sighed.  “What am I supposed to say to the guy?”

           “Dammit, Dean, just go up to him and be friendly!” Bobby yelled, exasperated.  “It’s not that damned hard.  Talk about your lives, your families, that sort of thing!”

           Dean stared at him.  “Really, Bobby?  Talk about my family?”

           “You don’t have to tell him the truth!  Make something up, Dean!  You’re one of the smartest guys I know, you can do this!”

           Dean’s green eyes were full of distrust.  He shared a look with Adam, and then turned back to Bobby.  “Why are you pushing me to do this?”

           “Because I don’t want you two to vanish underground for another year and leave me not even knowing if you’re dead or alive,” Bobby explained.  “Just go talk to the guy!”

           Dean chewed on his lip, considering.  Finally, he nodded.  “Alright, I’ll talk to him.”

           “I don’t suppose I could have another beer?” Adam asked hopefully.

           “You’ve had enough.  I’ll get you a Pepsi,” Bobby replied, starting towards the house.  “Be right back.”

           Dean waited until Bobby had gone into the house. Then he turned to Adam.  “Ok, why the hell does he want me talking to this FBI agent?”

           “That seems like pretty much the stupidest thing you could do,” Adam agreed.  “If he is looking for me, he’s probably watching for you.  And even if he isn’t, even if this doesn’t have anything to do with me, the guy’s looking for salamanders!  Putting one into his face sounds like asking for trouble.  But he sure did push for you to go talk to this guy. What is that sly old bastard up to?”

           “I don’t know,” Dean sighed.  “But I guess there’s only one way to find out.”

           Adam stared at him, his hazel eyes going wide. “Seriously?  You’re going to do it?”

           “Yeah, what the hell, right?” Dean replied, grinning at his friend.  “Only live once!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun says Bobby’s playing with fire. He better hope it doesn’t backfire on him and blow up in his face. Mr. Fun is a very punny guy, isn't he? For the record, he kept saying "No pun intended." Yeah, right.


	8. Small Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Cass get acquainted. Cass fills in some details on the story of Adam Milligan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully this will post this time. Archive's been twitchy for me again.

           “No sign of the car,” Sam reported.

           The two had taken the agent’s car, as the front passenger seat of Blake and Cass’s squad car was still uncomfortably damp. Cass narrowed his eyes, quickly checking around for any sign of the two men Carson had described.  “You know, it occurs to me that we may have already met these suspects,” Cass mused.

           “You mean the assholes that spit at you when we were leaving the station?” Sam asked casually as he pulled into a parking spot a few slots away from the entrance.  “I already thought of that, Cass.  Mensa level genius, remember?”

           “Does it reassure you to remind yourself and others of that fact?” Cass asked.

           Sam looked at him coolly.  “What I need to remind you of, Detective Novak, is that I am not the man with whom to fuck.  And since I got to Elemental Falls, the two of you have done absolutely nothing besides fuck with me!  I don’t appreciate it, and I won’t put up with it!  The next time you assholes try to haze me, there’s going to be trouble!”

           “I hereby concede that you are manlier than I,” Cass declared.  “You win the pissing contest, the dick measuring contest, and any other test of general masculinity you wish to put forth.  You are the alpha male.  I humbly submit to your dominance.  Now, can we at least try to be civil?”

           Sam stared at him a moment.  Then he pinched his lips together into a tight line. “Sorry.  I guess we got off to a bad start and it just went downhill as we went on.  I still do not believe this lizard thing, but you guys are clearly up to something and I really do not like being kept in the dark.”

           “Fine,” Cass said, shrugging.  “If you want to know, I’ll get you a copy of Mr. Singer’s book, although I’m surprised he didn’t sell you one when you went to see him.”

           “He did sell me one when I went to see him,” Sam corrected.  “He told me a whole lot of fairy tales and tried to pretend that he knew me.  Even went so far as to try to imply that my father and brother aren’t dead, and that was just over the line!”

           “I’m sorry to hear about your father and brother, but I’m sorrier to hear that you want them dead.”

           Sam sputtered.  “What?”

           “Typically, upon hearing that family members believed dead are, in fact, still alive, most people express happiness and relief,” Cass explained, oblivious to the rising fury in Sam’s green eyes.  “The fact that you aren’t happy and in fact take offense at the very idea suggests that perhaps your relationship with them was less than ideal.  An abusive childhood would certainly explain your current need to constantly feel in control and dominant, but I have to say that I’m very sorry to hear that you…”

           “Holy shit, you just don’t know when to quit, do you, Novak?” Sam exclaimed.  “Do you get punched in the face often?”

           “That does happen at times,” Cass admitted. “Are you perhaps suggesting that I let you do the talking when we interview the motel clerk?”

           Sam stared at him for a moment.  “You’ve got Asperger’s, don’t you, Cass?  Or some kind of personality disorder?”

           Cass blinked.  “I’ve never been diagnosed with any form of autism or personality disorder, no. Why, do you feel I exhibit symptoms?”

           “Yeah, let’s go with that.”

           Cass chewed on his lip for a bit, considering this. “Perhaps I should make an appointment to be evaluated.  Thank you for your concern.”

           “Hey, no problem!”  Sam patted Cass on the shoulder.  “I’m there for ya, buddy.”

           That made Cass smile.  He was glad to have made some steps, however small, in progressing towards a real working relationship with the moody FBI agent. Last night, he’d suggested to Blake that, since they were dealing with a salamander as well as the Fat Boys, it might be best to gain the agent’s trust rather than simply driving him off as they’d done to the others.  Sam, he’d argued, could prove to be a valuable asset.  Blake had agreed, and Cass had been thinking all morning about ways he could break the ice.  This new knowledge that the young agent apparently had a bad relationship with his perhaps deceased father and brother explained a lot.  Sam might be feeling a lot of residual guilt over that.  Perhaps Cass could help him sort out his feelings, maybe stop lashing out at everyone around him in an obvious attempt to hide his own insecurity under a mask of rude arrogance?  Maybe if…

           “Can I ask you something?” Sam asked suddenly, derailing Cass’s train of thought.

           “You just did.  You asked if you could ask something.”

           “Would you be serious for a minute?”

           Cass looked confused.  “I am serious?”

           “Of course you are,” Sam sighed. “Alright.  At the station, you and Blake seemed to be indicating that you’ve previously dealt with things like this, this salamander business.  Singer confirmed it.”

           Cass’s face became solemn.  “Yes, it’s true.  A few years back, Blake and I were forced to take down a rogue salamander. It was of the more difficult things we’ve had to do in our careers, but it was necessary.”

           Sam grew very still.  “You drowned him?”

           The detective nodded.  “Yes.  You read the book?  While elementals have bodies that are primarily human, the one sure way to kill them is to use an opposing element.  For a salamander, that’s water.  But while it might appear that the way to deal with an undine is therefore fire, that isn’t true.  An undine is actually very strong against fire because they can quench it.  They’re actually weak against earth, so the way to take them down is by stoning.  Of course, bullets work well, too.”

           “Of course,” Sam replied.  He had an odd expression on his face.  “Bullets work well against almost anything.”

           “Not really,” Cass corrected.  “See, a salamander would be hurt by bullets, but no more so than a normal human, and they can shield themselves to a degree. If you don’t have water available, the next best thing would be air, suffocating them.”

           “I see.  So if you don’t have an undine, look for a sylph?”

           “Exactly.  The problem with a sylph is that they are very weak against the element of fire. They burn quite easily, so that would be a difficult fight.  In fact, the best way to destroy a sylph is fire, followed by earth.  Water wouldn’t work on them.  They control the air, so they can’t be easily drowned.  And pygmies can shield themselves against fire. They can drown, but again, as undines are weak against the earth element, that would be a match.  The best way to destroy a pygmy is to separate them from the ground and cut off their air.”

           “Hang ‘em high.”

           “Yes, you understand precisely!” Cass praised, smiling.  And Blake had thought that the FBI agent wouldn’t be willing to listen!  He’d be pleasantly surprised once Cass relayed this conversation.

           “So, you willingly admit that you and Detective Blake Shelton intentionally and with full knowledge drowned a man because you thought he was a salamander?”

           Cass nodded, serious again.  “We destroyed him not because he was a salamander, but because he was a rogue.  It was a bit more than a passing thought though, Sam.  The evidence that he was a rogue salamander was pretty strong.”

           “Oh?”  Sam was giving Cass his complete attention.  “What evidence are we talking about?”

           “The evidence of the fireballs he was throwing at us when we tried to arrest him was fairly convincing,” Cass recounted.  

           “Uh, what?  Fireballs?”

           “Yes, balls of fire.  He was creating them with his powers and throwing them at us. They’d hit and then explode.  He was also igniting anything he could near us, such as the gunpowder in our weapons.  I got injured from that and still have a scar on my hip.  Blake got away with just superficial injuries.  But three people lost their lives that day, because the first thing he exploded was the gas station.”

           Sam leaned forward.  “Start at the beginning.  I want to hear everything.”

           “Certainly.  The suspect’s name was Adam Milligan, age twenty at time of death,” Cass began.  He was oblivious or ignoring the expression on the agent’s face.  “He was the son of a single mother and a drifter who sometimes rolled through town. The drifter, I couldn’t tell you what his name was, but I think he had family in the area.  He apparently had a couple of kids of his own, but he never took them along when he went to visit Milligan and his mom.  Milligan was fairly well known around town, and not for a good reason.  I dealt with him fairly frequently when I was on patrol.  He was always involved in some fight with someone or another, he was on drugs, he drank, he stole, he committed vandalism, that sort of thing. I guess he was bullied pretty badly the whole time he was growing up because his dad wasn’t around and his mother was known to be a prostitute.”  Cass shrugged.  “Children can be cruel.  Children and Youth stepped in at one point, tried to take custody of Adam, but his dad came rolling back into town and, apparently, knew some powerful friends. That got stopped suspiciously fast and nothing was ever mentioned about it again.  Every time his dad came back, Adam would run away.  I know that because we were frequently called in to assist with the search for him.  Then when he got older, his dad would roll in and Adam would run out, get drunk or stoned or both and raise hell around the town.  Given the history I’ve recounted, it should be clear why I know of that as well.”

           “I see.  He sounds like a messed up kid with a bad childhood who was afraid of his biological father and had no one at all to help him.”

           “Oh, that isn’t the case.  He had Singer.”

           Sam’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.  “Bobby Singer?”

           “Oh yes, Singer was probably the closest thing Milligan had to a father in his life,” Cass said.  “Once Milligan turned eighteen, he moved in with Singer, started working in his garage, and finally looked like he was turning his life around. Word was that he’d quit drugs and drinking and was working to save money for college.  But if you read Singer’s book, then you know that the elemental powers manifest in adulthood, generally around the early twenties.  And Milligan, well, to say he was not prepared would be an understatement.  The three people who died at the gas station were apparently three of his worst tormentors.”

           “So, he blew up the gas station to get back at his old bullies?”

           “Yes and no.  When Blake and I found him at Singer's place, Singer was already there, trying to talk Milligan into surrendering peacefully and getting help.  But Milligan was in a panic.  Kept yelling ‘He’ll come for me now, he won’t leave me alone’ and that sort of thing.  I suspected he’d had some sort of psychotic break.  Later Singer told us that he’d gone to the gas station and the clerk and two of his friends, all of whom had bullied Milligan in the past, started on him. He believes Milligan didn’t mean to lash out at them with his powers, but they often manifest when the elemental is under stress, and that’s apparently what happened here.  But at any rate, when we came in and Milligan saw us, he got worse.  Singer got between us, tried to keep us from getting to Milligan.  We attempted to negotiate, but Milligan lost control and exploded.”

           Sam shook his head.  “I’m sorry, what was it that he exploded?”

           “I suppose that’s not an accurate description of what he did,” Cass admitted.  “He created a burst of flames around his body that superheated the air, causing it to suddenly expand with explosive force that knocked everything in a five foot radius around him back.”

           Sam blinked at him.

           “The result was that Singer was badly burned and still has some scars.  That’s why he always wears a hat and a long-sleeved shirt, to cover the scars on his back and the back of his head.  That was also the point Milligan caused the gunpowder in our weapons to ignite, resulting in our injuries.”

           “You saw this?” Sam exclaimed.  “You actually saw this guy generate fire out of thin air?”

           “Actually, while air needs to be present in order to maintain fire and I’m not aware of any attempts by a salamander to create fire in a vacuum environment, the fire itself actually comes from the elemental plane, not the air.  Air tends to be the domain of sylphs, which have an elemental plane of their own, and…”

           Sam raised a hand.  “Detective, could you please continue the story?”

           “Hmm?  Oh, of course.”  Cass frowned, trying to remember where he’d left off.

           “You said Milligan injured you both as well as Singer?” Sam prompted.

           “Ah, yes, thank you.  As we were recovering from the effects of the explosion, none of us was able to stop Milligan from departing.  My partner and I quickly called for assistance for Singer and gave chase, but we were concerned that the suspect was headed deeper into town, towards our local shopping center.  Had he gone into the building, he could have caused significant loss of life or property. Therefore, I suggested to my partner that we attempt to lure him out to the falls.  You see, while most of the long-term residents in the town are quite familiar with elementals, most don’t know the true history of the falls.  Back during the witch hunt days…”

           “Singer told me the story.”

           “Good, then you understand!  I went ahead and prepared at the falls and then hid myself. My job was to spring the trap when my partner engaged the suspect and lured him out.  When they arrived, I utilized the mechanism at the falls to trap and destroy the suspect.”

           “What mechanism?  I thought it was a metal ring set into a rock underwater!”

           “Yes, that is the mechanism.”

           “Ok, I’m missing something here,” Sam complained. “How the hell could you use a metal ring to drown a suspect?”

           “By threading a chain through the ring and attaching it to the suspect.  I’d show you, but I’d have to take you out to the falls for that,” Cass explained.  “That isn’t possible.”

           Sam frowned.  “Why the hell not?  Do I need to go through some sort of initiation ceremony to be let into the secret club and learn the magic ritual?”

           Cass frowned as well.  “I am not aware of any secret club.  Apparently I wasn’t invited.  That’s disappointing.  Perhaps my partner…?”

           “Detective!” Sam snapped, rapidly losing his patience. “Why the hell can’t you take me out to the falls and show me these devices?”

           “Because there isn’t time.”

           “And why’s that?” Sam challenged.

           “Because I believe that is the car of the two suspects we’ve been watching for that just pulled into this parking lot three slots down from where we are currently waiting,” Cass explained.

           Sam, much to Cass’s amusement, instinctively ducked and reached for his weapon.  Cass had already guessed that the young agent didn’t have much in the way of field experience.  This was further confirmation.  Two people sitting in a car drew far less attention than two people trying to hide in a car.  But at the moment, the suspects wouldn’t have noticed if he and Sam were naked and dancing on top of the car.  They appeared to be deep in an argument with each other, which continued as they passed by, oblivious.

           Cass looked at Sam, watching as the agent’s green eyes locked onto one of the suspects.  He followed the man, it was Winchester, as the suspects entered the motel and then kept staring, seeming lost in his thoughts.  “Are you alright?” Cass asked, concerned.  “You’ve got a funny look on your face.”

           “I’m fine,” Sam said a little too quickly. “Don’t worry about it.”  He shook his head.  “You know, I think those two are actually worse than you and Shelton.  I did not think that was possible. They sound like an old married couple!”

           “Maybe they are?  It’s one of the things we can find out.”  Cass moved to get out of the car, but hesitated, looking at the agent again. “Sam, listen.  It’s very important that we do not confront these two, alright? If a confrontation becomes inevitable, stay cool, don’t engage with them, and stay back.  And most important, if I tell you to run?  Run!”

           Sam gave him a hard look, his face flushing with anger.  “I’m not a brand new rookie, alright?  I’ve been in field situations before!”

           “But I’m betting you’ve never encountered a salamander before.  Am I right?”

           Sam didn’t answer.  But his scowl told Cass all that he needed to know.

           “To be clear, I am not challenging your authority, your dominance, your knowledge or your experience,” Cass said.  “All I am saying is that, of the two of us, I have the most knowledge and experience when it comes to dealing with elementals.”

           “For fuck’s sake, there is no such thing!” Sam exploded.  “You’re delusional!  Your whole damned police force is delusional because if they’re anything like you two and that chief of yours…!  Dammit, we’re wasting time on these two when we’re supposed to be looking for the Fat Boys!”

           “We haven’t stopped looking for the Fat Boys,” Cass explained.  “Unfortunately, we have to wait on that, while this is considerably more pressing. If one of those men is a salamander, then we need to make sure he isn’t rogue.  As a detective and a member of the police force of Elemental Falls, it is my duty to ensure the safety of those I protect and serve above anything else. Right now, that means looking into a possible salamander that is already too free with his powers in crowded, public places for comfort.  Now, in respect to your beliefs, I would like to offer you a choice.  If you would like to wait in the car, believing that this is a waste of time, or even drive off and pick me up later after you do whatever it is you find so pressing, that is obviously your choice.  I, however, am going in to take advantage of this potentially brief window of time before Winchester and Levine come back to speak with the clerk.  You are welcome to join me.”

           Cass immediately started towards the motel. As he opened the door, he heard hurried footsteps behind him as Sam quickly caught up.

           Unfortunately, the desk clerk was less than helpful.  The hotel didn’t even require IDs, and apparently the two had paid for their room for the entire week in cash.  Cass hadn’t expected much more.

           As the two returned to the parking lot, Cass’s phone rang.  It was Blake. “Not much to report,” Cass told him, putting the speaker on to appease Sam.  “Suspects paid for a week at the hotel in cash, so they’ll be around at least that long.  But the clerk was a wash.”  He paused. “Um, why are you calling me instead of attempting to impregnate your wife?”

           “Already took care of business, buddy, thanks for not interrupting for once!” Blake’s voice declared.  “Smoke ‘em if you got ‘em.  You need me out there?”

           “What the hell for?” Sam exclaimed.  “We wasted time looking into two guys who, as far as I can tell, have absolutely nothing to do with our current case.  Gentlemen, we are leaving!  Blake, meet us back at the station.  I’ve had quite enough of this elemental bullshit.”

           “Cool your jets, cowboy,” Blake drawled.  “I’m not going anywhere before I get lunch. Cass, you want to meet at the diner?”

           “That sounds acceptable.”

           “No it doesn’t!” Sam exclaimed.  “For fuck’s sake, it’s noon already.  We have wasted half a day on this salamander nonsense! I’ve got a stress headache.  You people are driving me insane!  This is why you’ll never catch the real criminals, because you’re wasting so much time on fairy tales!”

           “Actually, the traditional image of fairies is usually attributed to sylphs.  The salamanders…”

           Sam whirled on Cass with fury burning in his green eyes.  “Do not,” he ordered, “say one more word about elementals.  Not one more fucking word, from either of you!  In fact, Shelton, meet us at the station.  Cass, hang up the phone and let's get going.”

           Cass hung up.  “May I ask what you’re planning to do?”

           "Never mind what I'm going to do," Sam snapped.  "The only thing that applies to you right now is shutting your mouth and getting in the car!"

           "Are you planning on following up on the murder of Adam Milligan?" Cass asked calmly.  "You seem quite upset about it, and as you've previously stated you don't believe in elementals, it seems clear that you're looking to make a murder case."

           Sam stared at him.  "And you're alright with that?"

           "You can do whatever you wish," Cass replied shrugging.  "For now, though, might I suggest you perhaps devote your attention to the suspect currently approaching our location from the motel?"

           Sam looked up, and there was Dean Winchester.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun says that If you really want to get rid of the FBI agents, just have them hang out with Cass all day. You could see Sam's frustration building.


	9. Kiss And Tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake has some suspicions about Gwen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The archive finally let me update the tags, I hope, so check them over because I added a few.

           Blake thrust energetically, his face buried in his wife’s hair, one arm around her and the other gripping the globe of her left breast.  “I love you,” he groaned.  “I love you, baby.”

           “I love you, too,” Gwen moaned, thrusting her hips to meet him.  “Oh!”

           Blake had already been pounding away at her long enough that they were both covered in sweat on their messy bed.  He thrust a few more times and then grunted as he came, sending his seed deep into his wife’s womb.   _Get in there, you lazy bastards,_ he silently ordered _.  Get in there, and this time, get her pregnant!_

           He kissed her deeply and then rolled off, staring at the ceiling in the early morning light.  He’d always been a morning man.  That was something his wife tended to appreciate, at least when they weren’t interrupted by phone calls.  Blake closed his eyes for a moment and sighed.  “Gwen?” he called.

           “Hmm?”

           “Do you?”

           “Do I what?”

           He brushed his fingers against her side, his eyes still closed.  “Love me.”

           Gwen propped herself up on one elbow, looking down at her husband.  “Of course I do!”

           His eyes opened, looking up at her.  “Really?”

           “Insecure much?”  She laughed and playfully slapped at his arm.  “I’ll get some coffee started,” she called as she rolled out of bed and reached for her robe.

           Blake lay where he was, lost in thought.

           When Cass had been promoted to detective and paired with him following the incident with Adam Milligan, Blake hadn’t been sure what to think about it.  Cass was young, only twenty-six then and twenty-nine now, twelve years younger than Blake.  Blake knew who he was, of course.  In a small town like Elemental Falls, every cop knew everyone else on the force, at least in passing.  And on the force, Cass was frequently the butt of practical jokes.  He was extremely intelligent, brave and loyal, but most cops considered him a ditz.  When Cass was promoted, most of them believed it to be a colossal mistake on Carson’s part and felt sorry for Blake.  There had even been a poll started, with bets being made on how long it would be until Carson realized his mistake and busted Cass back down.

           At first, it looked like the poll would soon be won.  Cass seemed in over his head as a detective.  He overlooked obvious clues, frequently went off on tangents, and typically irritated those he tried to question.  But Blake found his quirks amusing and could usually redirect the younger man and get him back on target.  He’d always liked Cass, despite the fact that the man had no such thing as a brain/mouth filter.  Cass had a tendency to say whatever was on his mind.  Their first day together, Cass had calmly explained to Blake a number of his personal failings, and then provided some suggestions on what Blake could do to improve.  It was something he’d done to a lot of people, and had made him quite a few enemies on the force.  Blake found it refreshing.  Cass was dependable and loyal, quick to step up and cover for Blake in a pinch.  Blake knew his partner had his back.  Still, if Cass was a diamond in the rough as Carson seemed to believe, that gem was not readily apparent.

           But Blake’s greatest skill, the trait that had won him his detective badge, was his power of observation.  Before he’d become one of Carson’s Angels, Blake had another nickname – The Hawk.  Blake had a knack for detail, spotting clues that others frequently missed.  His problem, though, was putting all the clues together.  Blake had good cop instincts and the brains to make a decent detective, but he often struggled with making the leap between what he’d seen and what it meant.

           And that was where Cass shone.  On his own, Cass would pick up on what clues he could spot and then form a hypothesis.  More than once, his guesses were wildly off-target, based only on a few clues and oblivious to the rest.  But with Blake there to point out what Cass had missed, it was a very different story.

           “You’ve got the hawk eyes, Shelton, but Novak’s got the intuition,” Carson had explained when he’d sat Blake down and told him he’d planned to promote Cass to partner with him.  “Between the two of you?  You’re fucking Sherlock Holmes!”

           And of course Carson was right.  Solving crimes was largely just a matter of communicating together after an investigation.  It always amazed Blake how it worked.  All he had to do was let Cass know what he’d seen and then stand back and watch as Cass’s mind effortlessly made the intuitive leaps that Blake had always struggled with.  Blake had learned quickly to trust his partner, and had made sure that the practical jokes at Cass’s expense stopped.  The two had quickly become fast friends.  Now, there was no one that Blake would rather have at his side in a tough spot.

           But it was much harder when it came to trial. Blake and Cass could present a chain of evidence, but it was often difficult to explain to juries exactly how one piece led to another.  In Sherlock’s day, matching indentations in the dirt to a ladder, for instance, would be enough for a conviction.  But modern juries wanted DNA or videos.  Defense lawyers like Fergus Crowley could throw so much bullshit at juries that they got blinded.  And when that happened, scumbags that they knew were guilty and could prove it sometimes still walked.

           It was damned frustrating.  And more than once, he and Cass had stepped over the law to do something about it.  Way more than once, if the FBI knew about it.

           And then, of course, there was the matter of the Fat Boys.  Blake was good at spotting clues, and Cass was good at putting clues together.  But not even Sherlock Holmes could do much when there were no clues to spot.

           But none of it mattered now.  Blake got up, pulling his own robe on as he thought again about what he’d seen this morning as he’d made love to his wife.

           Gwen already had coffee brewing as he came into the kitchen.  She was sitting at the table, looking at the paper.  “You want the shower first?” he asked, kissing her.

           “You can go ahead,” she called, not looking up. “And tell Cass thank you for not calling us this morning.”

           “He’s looking into a couple of suspects with an FBI agent,” Blake explained.

           “FBI?  Well, let’s hope he doesn’t say anything silly and incriminate you both,” Gwen said, still not looking up from the paper.  “If G-men come pounding on this door, I swear I’ll wring his neck.”

           “Wait your turn.”  He paused.  “How was your mother?”

           “Fine.  I think she’s more lonely than anything else.  Sorry I missed you, though.”

           He moved behind her, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her temple.  “I hope I made up for it this morning.”

           “Oh, I assure you, you did!” she laughed, pushing him away.  “Now shoo!  Go get a shower and get to work. The coffee will be ready and waiting for you by the time you get out.”

           “Yes, ma’am!”  Blake headed for the shower.

           He stood under the spray, going through the motions of hygiene.  But his mind was miles away.

           Blake didn’t miss much.  He’d seen the marks on his wife’s body.  The faint bruising over her hip bones.  The scratches on her back.  The mark on her neck.  The bruise on her shoulder that she’d tried to brush off as bumping against a doorway. The last one was new, but he’d seen the others before.

           Gwen’s mother was extremely hard of hearing and couldn’t hear the phone ring, so she didn’t have one, opting instead to use a medical emergency system she could activate with a wearable tag in case of emergency.  Calling Gwen’s phone wouldn’t confirm anything.  But he had a buddy from work who had recently moved in across from Gwen’s mother.  Blake didn’t think Gwen knew about him, as it wasn’t a close friend.  The guy owed Blake a few favors.  When Blake had called him, asked if his wife’s car was parked in her mother’s driveway, he’d told him it wasn’t.  But he knew she’d taken her car.

           If she wasn’t at her mother’s, then where was she?

           Their marriage was far from perfect.  Early in their marriage, he’d caught her having an affair with a man at the office where she worked.  Gwen had sworn it was a one-time fling, a mistake that she’d never make again.  She didn’t know that Blake had seen the receipts, looked at the credit card bills she usually managed and had seen that she’d been out to dinner, gone to movies, even had a weekend at the Last Stand a month ago.

           He’d never told her how much he knew.  But he’d monitored her for a while after that, and the affair had apparently ended.

           Their marriage wasn’t perfect, but Blake wanted to save it.  As long as she was willing, as long as Gwen put in the effort, Blake was willing to forgive and forget.  They’d gone on, looking like the perfect couple.

           And then, about five months ago, it started again.

           The lies.

           The secrets.

           The marks of a lover’s hands on her body.

           What, exactly, had Cass wanted to say to him? How much had his highly intelligent, intuitive partner puzzled out?

           It didn’t matter, Blake decided, climbing out and toweling dry.  None of it mattered.  If Gwen was cheating again, well, that was on him, wasn’t it?  Blake obviously wasn’t filling some need.  But that would all change soon enough.

           A baby.  A baby would change everything.  Gwen would make a wonderful mother.  If they had a baby together, she wouldn’t stray.

           The only flaw in his plan was the simple fact that she was, in fact, cheating on him again.  He had a low sperm count, and she had a lover somewhere.  If Gwen caught pregnant, how could he, Blake, know the child was his?

           That wasn’t going to be a problem.  It wouldn’t be too difficult to get a blood sample, beg a favor from one of the MEs, and have a paternity test done.

           But what would he do if it wasn’t his child?

           That was the one question that Blake didn’t have an answer for.

           Blake quickly dressed for work, returned to the kitchen, and poured a cup of fresh hot coffee.  He added milk and sugar, stirred.  Then he sat down at the table across from his wife, his eyes once more traveling to the mark on her neck as he sipped the coffee.  “What are your plans for tonight?” he asked.

           “I’m going out with some of the girls at work,” she told him.  “Don’t wait up for me.  I don’t know what time I’ll be back, and I might stay over with someone.”

           “Alright,” he said cheerfully.  “Well, have fun!”

           “Oh, I will!”

           I bet you will.  She was seeing him again tonight, her secret lover.  Tonight, his wife would be in the arms of another man.

           Blake wondered who it was.  What he had that Blake didn’t.  What he was able to provide for Gwen that Blake could not.

           A baby would change everything.  A baby would save their marriage.

           If it turned out to be someone else’s kid, well, he’d deal with that if it happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun's comment - Blake is a retread (spelling is correct, this is one of Mr. Fun's favorite insults)


	10. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam visits someone he left behind long ago

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recently updated the tags, some trigger warnings here.
> 
> Non-diegetic music that I used here is "Brother" by Needtobreathe. This is my main theme for Adam and Dean in this fic. The original version can be found here:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KRSLz_KgUsM
> 
> I asked my resident "Supernatural" expert, Jack, if this song was used in the show, he said not that he's aware of. And I asked because when I was looking for a video of this song to share, I found this!  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UUWC61PSb2g
> 
> For those who don't watch the show, that would be Jensen Ackles, who plays Dean Winchester, in Dean's outfit, singing this song at what appears to be a Supernatural convention. Not bad! Had to look up the color I see in his voice, I was thinking burgundy, but nope, believe it or not, it's maroon! So here we have Dean, singing the song I picked for his character and Adam's in this fic, in a voice the same color as Adam's band IRL. Funny how things work!

           Adam pushed his dripping wet hair out of his eyes. Too long.  He needed a haircut soon, but no time to worry about that now. Taking one last look around, he quickly stepped into the phone booth, dropped change into the slot, and dialed a number with trembling hands.

           “Don’t you run off, Adam!” John had warned as he finally tossed the chain he’d used to secure Adam every night into the trunk.  “Remember what I told you?  I’m trusting you now, boy, so don’t you betray that trust!”

           Of course, Adam had awakened Dean as soon as John’s steady snores made him sure the man was asleep.  He and his friend had been planning their escape for months, ever since the day John had grabbed Adam as he walked home from school, shoving him, kicking and screaming, into the trunk of the Impala.  The two friends had huddled close together each night since then, Dean comforting Adam as he’d cried and struggled against the chain, vowing to find a way to escape and get back to their mothers.  They’d planned and organized so that when the day finally came that John stopped locking Adam up, they were ready.

           The only real flaw in their plan was Dean’s mother. According to John, she’d taken her youngest son Sam and had moved out of the area.  John claimed not to know where she was, but the fact that she’d taken Sam and gone was proof that she didn’t want Dean anymore.  Adam suspected he was full of shit.  Every time John repeated this story and Adam saw the hurt rise in Dean’s eyes, his fists would clench in fury.

           The day would come, Adam vowed, when John would pay for what he’d done to his son.  To him.  That was what he was thinking as he listened to the phone ring and ring.

           Then, just when he was about to give up and hang up, he heard his mother’s sleepy voice.  “Hello?”

           “Mom!”

           “Adam!”  Instantly, his mother was awake.  “Adam, baby, where are you?  It’s been almost a year since I last saw you!  What happened?”

           “He took me, mom!” Adam explained.  The boy’s body sagged in relief at the sound of his mother’s voice, the tears he’d been fighting back finally running freely down his cheeks.

           “Who took you?”

           “John Winchester!  He grabbed me when I was walking home from school and took me away and I tried, mom!  I tried so hard to get away from him, but he’s so much bigger than me!  And I thought I could run away when he went to sleep, but he chained me up every night and I couldn’t get loose, and…” Adam was becoming hysterical.

           Hearing this, his mother made her voice soothing. “Shh, calm down, baby, it’s alright. Just tell me where you are!  Tell mommy where to find you and I’ll come get you! He can’t hurt you anymore.”  She paused.  “Adam, did he hurt you?”

           Adam sniffed, trying to calm himself.  “He hit me to make me listen to him.”

           “Oh baby!”  And now his mother was crying.

           “It’s ok, mom!  He hasn’t hit me in a long time.  That was just in the beginning!”  Adam’s eyes moved, looking through the glass of the phone booth to where a small figure sat shivering in the bus shelter outside.  “Mom, did Dean’s mom move away?”

           “Dean?  You mean Deanie Winchester?  Of course, if it was John that kidnapped you, he’d be there, too.  Yes, she moved to New Hampshire to live with her mom.”

           “Then you need to take Dean, too,” Adam urged. “You have to come and get us both, mom!”

           His mother paused.  “Adam, honey, Deanie needs to go back to his family.”

           “No!  Mom, if his mom isn’t there, then they’ll put him into foster care!”

           “For a little while, yes, until his mom comes for him.”

           “What happens if she doesn’t come?”  Adam’s grip on the phone was white-knuckled as he looked out at Dean.

           “Deanie is her son, Adam, she’ll come!”

           “But what if she doesn’t?  John said she moved because she’s afraid of the people that he and dad worked for.”

           “Yes, that’s right, she moved to get away from all of that.”

           “And she’s scared of what dad is, what Dean and I will be someday.”

           She hesitated.  “I don’t know that, honey, but what’s important right now is…”

           “So what if she’s still scared?” Adam pressed. “What if she doesn’t come back for him? Will Dean have to stay in foster care?”

           “Adam, you need to stop worrying about Deanie and just tell me where you are!”

           Adam closed his eyes, hearing John’s voice in his mind as he spoke to his son.   _“Your mom never understood, Dean.  She’s not an elemental, and she can’t comprehend what it’s like for us, how this business I’m in is the only place we really belong. That’s why she left me, son, and why she was able to get custody of you even though you’ll be a salamander, too someday.  I had to steal you back.  Then when Roman Levine was dying in my arms, his last words to me were to take care of his boy, and that’s why Adam’s with us.  But your mom took Sammy and moved away because this life I lead?  The people I work for?  They terrify her and they always have!  Even if I called her right now and told her to come and get you, she wouldn’t.  Because she’s scared, son.  So I want the both of you to drop this bullshit about running away, because neither one of your mothers wants either one of you!”_

           “Adam, baby?” his mother was calling.  “Are you still there?  Tell me where you are, honey!  I’ll come and get you.  Just please, tell me where you are!”

  _“Stop filling my boy’s head with ideas, Adam,” John had warned him, out of Dean’s hearing.  “Your mom doesn’t want you any more than his mom wants him.”_

_“Yes she does!” he’d insisted.  “Mom wants me, and as soon as I get away from you, she’ll take me back and you won’t be able to take me away again!”_

_John had scoffed.  “You’re an elemental, just like your daddy, and you’ve got his temper, too!  I’m betting you won’t have any more control over your powers than he did.  You remember those scars on your mom’s arms, Adam?  Your daddy did that, because he couldn’t control his powers.  Once your powers manifest, she’ll be just as scared of you as she was of him!”_

_“You’re so full of shit!” Adam had accused.  “My mom loves me, and if Dean’s mom doesn’t want him, she’ll take him in, too!”_

_How John had laughed at that!  “Kid, if you take Dean away from me, he’ll end up in foster care!  Your daddy grew up in foster care, didn’t he?  How’d that work out for him?”_

_Adam had gone silent, remembering the stories he’d picked up bits and pieces of, the scars his father bore._

_“They’ll put Dean with some assholes who will hurt him, just like your dad’s foster parents hurt him!” John insisted.  “And you will never see him again, Adam.  Is that what you want?  Then you just go ahead and run off!”_

           “Adam, please, are you still there?”  His mother’s voice was sounding desperate. “Please, just tell me where you are!”

           Adam gently hung up the phone.

           For a moment, he only stood as he was, sobbing softly with his hands clenched at his sides and his head down.  Then he wiped at his face with his sleeve and went back out to Dean.

           Dean jumped up hopefully.  “Is she coming?” he asked, his voice cracking as usual.

           “No,” Adam replied quietly.  “She doesn’t want me anymore.”

           In the light of the streetlamp, Adam watched as the hope died in Dean’s green eyes, watched as his friend’s shoulders slumped.  “Why don’t they want us, Adam?” Dean whispered, miserable.  “We’d be good boys!”

           “Hey, we didn’t do anything wrong, ok?” Adam corrected.  “It’s not what we did.  It’s what we are.  They don’t want us because we’re salamanders.”

           “But that’s stupid!” Dean exclaimed.  “We can’t help what we are!”

           “And they can’t help being afraid of us.” Adam put his arm around his friend. “Come on.  We need to get back and get out of these wet clothes before John wakes up and sees we’re gone.”

           “We’re going back to my dad?”  Dean’s changing voice cracked badly at the last word.

           Adam nodded glumly.  “We got nowhere else to go, buddy.  Your dad said that the business he’s in is the only place people like us belong.  I guess he’s right.”

****

           “Adam?  We’re here, buddy.”

           Adam blinked awake, disoriented for a moment. The dream, his memory of that terrible night when he’d chosen his friend over his mother, slowly faded away as reality returned.  Adam slowly climbed out of the car and stretched, knowing he was only delaying the inevitable.

           Dean, of course, was watching him closely. “Maybe you should try going in?” he suggested.  “I can find out if it’s a better day?”

           Adam shook his head.  “You got the baby monitor?” he asked, pulling the monitor out of his pocket and switching it on.

           “Yeah,” Dean said, sighing.  “I’ll send the nurse out.”  Dean hugged him, holding Adam tightly for a time before finally releasing him.  He reached into the pocket of his leather jacket, pulled out the baby monitor and switched it on.  “Testing, one two three?”

           “Sounds good,” Adam called, hearing Dean’s voice over the speaker.  “Tell her I love her.”

           “I always do, buddy.”  Dean slipped the monitor back into his pocket.  “Be back soon.”

           Adam watched as his friend went into the building. Then he took a seat in one of the metal chairs sitting outside the door, holding the baby monitor in his lap.  He listened as Dean greeted the nurses. “Hello, ladies and gentlemen!  How is she?”

           “Not good, I’m afraid,” a male voice replied. This was probably Derrick, the charge nurse.  “She got real upset last night, called 911 three times.  We finally convinced her that he’s in the hospital with chicken pox and a high fever.”

           “Alright, I’ll remember that,” Dean’s voice said. “She’s in her room?  Alright, I’ll go see her.”

           Adam leaned back and closed his eyes, his attention on the monitor as Dean thanked the nurse and headed back into the room. He was surprised at how well he could remember it, the short hallway with doors on either side, the smells and sounds of the nursing home, and finally the room where the woman sat, her eyes on whatever soap opera she was watching at the time.  “Good morning, Mrs. Levine!” Dean called cheerfully. “It’s Dean Winchester.  Do you remember me?”

           “Oh bullshit!”  His mother’s voice sounded irritated.  “You can’t fool me, young man!  Deanie Winchester is a child.  Who are you really?”

           And there it was, the last nail in the coffin of Adam’s hope of visiting her.  At 67 years old, his mother had suffered a stroke and was in the advanced stages of vascular dementia.  Her mind was locked in the past, back to when Adam and Dean were children and his father was still alive.

           Dean’s chuckle sounded as forced through the monitor as it likely was.  “You’re right, I’m sorry I tried to fool you.  I’m Deanie’s uncle Dean.  I can’t get anything over on you, can I?”

           “No, you can’t!  Sit down, there’s room.”  She hesitated.  “Have you seen my husband?”

           “No, ma’am.”

           “Good, I’m a mess, dinner isn’t ready and Adam’s off somewhere.  Roman never should have married a crazy cougar like me.  I was twice his age!  It’s a wonder I was able to have Adam.”  She paused.  “Have you seen Adam?  Have you seen my son?”

           “He’s in the hospital, Mrs. Levine.”  Dean’s voice was soothing.  “I just came from there to tell you he’s doing fine and says he loves you very much.  He should be able to come home soon, just a real bad case of the chicken pox.”

           “Oh, aren’t you wonderful!”  His mother’s voice was full of good cheer now.  “And so handsome!  Are you married?”

           “Good morning, Mr. Levine,” Derrick said softly.

           “Hey.”  Adam indicated the chair next to him.  The nurse sank into it, but Adam didn’t look up.  His eyes were fixed on the baby monitor as Dean chatted about nothing with his mother.  “I heard the chicken pox story.  How is she, other than her mind?”

           “Well, she’s definitely declined.  She’s completely wheelchair bound now, and she’s lost weight.  We’re feeding her, but that’s the progress of the disease.  She was pretty young when she first came to us, but I’m afraid dementia doesn’t care.  Every day, she loses a little more.”

           Adam swallowed hard.  “I know she’ll keep declining until the end.  I just wish I could visit her, you know?  Tell her I’m sorry.  But after the last time…?”  He shook his head.  “I should have come back sooner.”

           “Don’t take my picture!” Adam’s mother scolded on the baby monitor.  “I look awful!  Roman can’t see me like this!”

           “Mrs. Levine, you could never look anything but beautiful,” Dean’s voice soothed.

           The woman laughed.  “Oh, you’re a charmer, aren’t you?  Just like my Roman was!  He was only nineteen when we married, and I was an old lady of thirty-eight!  Then nine months after our wedding, we had Adam. Did you see how much Adam looks like him?  He’ll be as handsome as his father was!  We were so happy together those first couple of years.  Before the fire came.  Then Roman went bad, and Adam…  Where’s Adam?”

           Adam closed his eyes, sighing deeply as Dean repeated the chicken pox story.  “I should have come back sooner,” he repeated.  “I should have been here for her when she started to get sick!”

           “You were a child, Adam, and you were abducted,” Derrick reminded gently.  “On her really bad nights, she screams and cries for you, not because you never came home, but because you were taken away.”

           “The man who took me told me she wouldn’t want me back anyway, but it wasn’t true.  I should have tried harder, or even contacted her later when I grew up and he couldn’t control me anymore.  But by then, I was involved in some things, and…”

           The nurse’s hand squeezed Adam’s shoulder. “I cannot imagine what you must feel. But you come and try to visit once a month, and you call every week.  That’s a lot more than some of my residents who have families right in town get.  You try to do right by her as her son, Adam.”

           “I pay the bills,” Adam said.  “And Dean’s a huge help.  I don’t know what I’d do if he wasn’t there to…”  He chuckled.  “I don’t know what I’d do if he wasn’t there.  Full stop.”

           “He’s great with her,” Derrick commented, listening as Dean chatted with Adam’s mother.  “Marry him.  Now.”

           Adam chuckled again.  “We’re not like that.  We tried it once, but we’re way better at being friends than being lovers, or even being friends with benefits.  If he needs company, I’m happy to provide it.  But no, we’re not really marriage material.”

           “You’re an idiot, but that’s your life.  Ready for the care plan meeting?  I’ll call the team.”

           Half an hour later, Adam had signed off on his mother’s care plan and Dean returned, cell phone in his hand.  “I got you some new pictures,” he said, sitting down in the chair next to his friend.  “Pick and choose what you want.”

           “She has lost weight, hasn’t she?” Adam mused, looking over the pictures.  “Still beautiful, though.”

           “You know it.  I can barely see the scars.”

           Adam peered closely at one picture.  “You can’t even see the scorch marks on the walls!”

           “Adam, she’s fine.  Everyone is fine.  You didn’t hurt anyone,” Dean stressed.  “The staff never even was upset with you when it happened!  They know what’s in this town, ok?  No one blamed you.”

           “I know.”  He paused for a moment, thinking back to that terrible day when he’d first visited his mother in the nursing home.  How she’d failed to recognize him, thought Adam was his father, and immediately became upset.  As a child, he’d recognized how nervous his mother was, how she’d always tried to keep a perfect house and have supper ready when his father returned home.  But her behavior now indicated a side of their relationship Adam hadn’t been fully aware of as a child.  He’d tried to make her understand, tried to convince her that he was Adam, not Roman.  And she’d only become more upset.  She’d screamed at him, telling him that her son was gone and it was all his fault, striking at him, throwing things, the nurses not able to calm her.

           That was when the fire alarms went off.  Only then did anyone realize that the dresser Adam was leaning against had caught fire.  And how she had shrieked then, begged him not to hurt her.

           He’d never set foot inside the nursing home again.

****

           Back in the car, Adam promptly changed the subject. “You remember that shaggy tree with the cops when we got arrested?” Adam asked.  “I did some checking around, and it turns out, that’s the FBI agent.”

           “Seriously?”

           “Yup.  Our contact didn’t know the guy’s name, but apparently he’s some hotshot looking to make a name for himself by chasing down a couple of masterminds called the Fat Boys.”

           “Fat Boys?  Where do they come up with these stupid names?”

           “Don’t know, don’t care.  But bottom line is that he’s running with those two detectives, looking to solve their case.  So it doesn’t seem he’s looking at me at all.”

           “Which means there’s no reason for me to talk to him,” Dean concluded.  “Good.”

           Their conversation moved on until they started arguing over sports.  They were still arguing when they got back to their motel room, only stopping when the phone rang.

           It was George, the manager.  “You two need to watch your asses,” he’d advised.  “You got a detective and an FBI agent down here asking Ken about you.  And I expect a nice tip for this.”

           “You’ll get it,” Adam assured.  “Thanks, man.”  Hanging up, he turned to Dean.  “Well, buddy, either our contact was wrong about what he’s after, or that FBI agent is looking for a date.  Because he’s downstairs right now, grilling Ken about the two of us.”

           “The two of us?”  Dean scowled.  “Looks like I’ll be talking to him after all.”

           “Seriously?” Adam exclaimed.  “Are you out of your fucking mind?  Let’s pack up and get the hell out of Dodge!”

           “Look, Bobby obviously wanted me to talk to him, and we both know he’s got an ulterior motive for that,” Dean pointed out. “I’ve been wondering what it is. Now I’ve got the perfect chance to find out!  I’m taking it.”

           “Dean, I swear, if this guy arrests you, I’m going to tell Crowley to recommend the maximum sentence!”

           “I love you, too.”  Dean grabbed his coat and moved to the door.  “Wish me luck!”

           “Good luck.  You’ll probably need it!”

           “Hey!” Dean protested.  “It’s me!”  He flashed Adam a grin, and then he was out the door.

           Adam stared after the door with a heavy heart. Then with a groan, he grabbed his own coat and started out after his friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun said this was a very sad chapter, but it really shows the depth of the relationship between Adam and Dean.


	11. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean have a heart to heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non-diegetic music, and main theme for Dean and Sam here, is "Don't Cry" by Seal  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yhIJmVDJWJA

           “Hi,” Dean called.  “I’m Dean Winchester.  The gentlemen inside said you were asking about me and my friend.  I’d very much like to know why?”

           The cop stayed cool, but the surprise and chagrin that spread across the face of the moose of an FBI agent was deeply satisfying.  “Uh…” the tall man said, green eyes flickering frantically about as though seeking an escape.  “We were, um, that is, we were just, er…”

           “We’re looking into a series of crimes in the area, and your names happened to come up,” the cop said smoothly.   

           “That so?”  Dean moved closer, looking the cop up and down.  Angel eyes was about his height, dark tousled hair, gorgeous blue eyes, pouty lips, nice body.  Truth was, he was smoking hot.  No cop should be that damned good-looking.  “Well, pal, when I’m looking for information, I’ve found it’s usually best to go straight to the source.  You’re Detective Novak, right?”

           “That’s right.”

           “I remember the name from the station,” Dean said, “and it’s been eating at me for a while now because I know I’d heard it before. What’s your first name?”

           “Cass.”

           Dean snorted.  “What, like Cassandra?”

           “Like Castiel.  I was named after an angel, and…”

           Dean’s green eyes had suddenly gone as cold and hard as agates.  “Castiel Novak?  I knew I’d heard the name before!  You’re one of the two bastards who killed my half-brother!”

           The detective’s eyebrows shot up.  “Excuse me?”

           Dean’s fists clenched in anger.  “My brother was Adam Milligan, you son of a bitch!”

           “Ok, let’s all calm down!” the FBI agent called, pushing Novak back and stepping between them.  Novak was frowning, but didn’t appear too upset at Dean’s announcement.

           Dean glowered up at the giant who had suddenly blocked his access to one of the cops he’d sworn revenge on.  “Who the fuck are you?”

           Jolly Green flashed a badge in Dean’s face. “I’m FBI, pal!  The name’s Sam Winch…”  He coughed, cleared his throat.  “Sam Winch."

           Dean blinked.  "Your name is Sandwich?  What are you, ham on rye?"

           "Funny," Winch snapped.  "And I think you need to calm down before you do something you’ll regret.”

           “I already did something I regret!” Dean snapped, glaring around the overgrown agent to glower at Novak.  “I didn’t come after that bastard when I first found out!”

           “You are the son of Milligan’s father?” Novak asked. “I am sorry for your loss.  I can only imagine how you must feel.”

           “You’re about to feel something, you…!”

           “Whoa, whoa!” Agent Winch kept himself between the two.  “Listen, Winchester, how about you and I go right across the street there to that restaurant and talk about it?  I’m investigating that incident, and I would very much like to hear your side of things. But I cannot let you just attack Detective Novak, ok?”

           That surprised Dean.  “You’re investigating my brother’s death?”

           “Among other things, yes.”

           “Do you have an older sibling?” Detective Novak asked.  “Has your father had any other children?”

           Dean blinked at him.  “What?  No, just Adam and Sam!”

           “So you were your father’s firstborn child,” the detective declared.

           Dean gave him a hard look.  “You’re hot as hell, pal, but don’t think I won’t mess up that pretty face of yours if you don’t shut your fucking mouth right the fuck now!”

           “Hey, easy, Winchester.”  The moose had his hands on Dean now and was physically steering him towards the restaurant.  “You and I are going to go have lunch and have a nice little chat, alright?”

           “Alright!  Take your hands off of me.”  Dean glared back around him to see Novak pulling out his phone.  “This isn’t over, Novak!”

           “I understand, and I also find you very physically attractive as well.”

           Dean blinked.  “The fuck?”

           “Yeah, I know,” Winch sighed.  “Trust me, I know.”

****

           Every instinct that Dean had told him to run back, grab Adam, jump in Baby and burn rubber down the road.  Dealing with cops was bad enough.  This was Federal he was dealing with now!  What the hell was Bobby thinking, telling him to talk to this guy?

           Still, Dean had to confess it couldn’t have worked out better if he’d planned it.  Dean hadn’t had any idea exactly how to get this gorilla of an FBI agent away from the hot detective in the trench coat without getting himself arrested or punched in the face.  He’d come down to the parking lot prepared to wing it.

           Apparently, he’d made the right choice.

           It’s a public place, he told himself as he casually looked over the menu.  Nothing funny can happen in a crowded place.  Besides, if this giant stiff really is looking into Adam’s death, then maybe there’s a better way to get back at Shelton and Novak.  Wouldn’t it be fun to see them thrown in with the same guys they arrested?

           The thought made him smile.

           “You’re smiling,” Winch called.

           “And you’re staring,” Dean retorted.  “That’s creepy as fuck, man.  If you want a date, just ask, ok?  Worst I’ll say is no.”

           “What?! I… No!  I’m not, I mean…!”

           Dean slyly glanced up at him over the top of the menu.  “Dude. It’s ok to think I’m attractive, just don’t stare, ok?”

           “I don’t!” the flustered agent exclaimed.

           “Then you’re an idiot,” Dean told him, going back to the menu.  “I’m a damned good-looking guy.”

           “You’re…  I mean, yeah, you’re good-looking, but I’m not gay!”

           “Your loss, pal.  If I order the steak, is it going to bankrupt the Federal government?”

           “Order whatever you want!” Winch snapped irritably.

           “Awesome!”  When the waitress approached, Dean gave her a smile.  “I’ll have the bacon double cheeseburger with fries, please, and whatever cola you’ve got.  What kind of pie do you have?”

           “I thought you were ordering steak!” Winch exclaimed.

           “It’s basic math,” Dean explained.  “Bacon double cheeseburger with fries is greater than steak!  You know, that little arrow head thingy, looks like an alligator’s face?”  Dean mimicked an alligator’s mouth opening and closing with his thumb and index finger.

           “You,” Winch declared, “are not right.”

           The waitress cleared her throat.  “Um, we have a dessert menu I can give you that lists all of our pies,” she said, smiling at Dean.  “You want it now, or after you eat?”

           “Now, please?  And thank you, Melanie,” Dean said, noting the woman’s nametag.

           She giggled.  “Be right back!”

           “Um, I…?”  The agent stared after the waitress’s back.  “She’s bringing you a dessert menu, and she hasn’t taken my order yet?”

           “What can I say, Winchie?  When you got it going on…?”

           “Winchie?  Don’t call me that.”

           “Ok, Sammy.”

           “Or that.”

           “Fine, Fibbie.”

           “You know what, let’s just go back to Sammy. I should be used to it after riding all day with Shelton anyway.”

           That took the smile off of Dean’s face. “You’ve been with Castiel Novak and Barakiel Shelton?  What, you got a thing for murdering piece of shit cops?”

           “You know what, that’s good, let’s get into what we came here for,” Sammy declared.  “As soon as I put in my order.”  He snatched the dessert menu out of the returning waitress’s hand and shoved it at Dean.  “I’ll take the lemon chicken salad, Italian dressing, and just ice water for the drink, please.”

           The waitress frowned at him.  “Alright, I’ll put your order in.”  Then she turned back to Dean and smiled.  “You need some time to pick your pie?”

           “Nope!  Today I’m going with banana cream.  Haven’t had that for a while.”  He smiled back.  “Don’t mind Sammy, he’s had a bad day.”

           “You have no idea,” Sammy grumbled.

           “I’ll bring your meal in a few,” she called. Her eyes flicked appraisingly over Sammy for a second before she turned and strutted back to the kitchen.

           Dean watched her go, admiring the view.  “She digs you, buddy!  Or she would if you’d get that stick out of your ass.”

           “You know what, I’m kind of over my tolerance limit for people talking about my ass for a while,” Sammy informed him.  “So let’s talk about your brother instead.”

           “Adam Milligan, age twenty at time of death,” Dean said, growing somber once more.  “He was born, lived a while and died, and I never once got to meet him.”

           “Uh, what?”

           “Dad wouldn’t let us meet,” Dean explained, frowning.  “He wouldn’t let us have any friends, really.  Said it was best if Adam and I just stuck to our own kind.”

           “I’m sorry, I’m confused now.  If he wanted you to stick to your own kind, why didn’t he let you meet, and what do you mean, your own kind?”

           “I mean me and Adam Levine.  We weren’t allowed to meet my brother Adam.  And by our own kind, well, let’s just say that we’re kind of a special breed.”

           “Salamanders?”

           Dean’s eyebrows raised in surprise.  “Someone told you about that, huh?  I wonder who?”  Bobby, obviously, but Dean was too good of an actor to let anything but mild surprise show on his face.   _Go ahead and think you have the upper hand, Sammy,_  he thought.  Still, it would be worth asking Bobby later what he'd been thinking, telling this outsider about salamanders.  Dean guessed it had something to do with whatever motivated Bobby to encourage Dean to talk with this clown in the first place.

           The smug smile on the agent’s face told Dean Sammy did indeed feel he had the upper hand now.  “So you were basically raised all your life thinking you had elemental fire powers, huh?  That you had some kind of affinity with fire?”

           “That’s right.  Ah, thank you, Melanie!”

           “Yes, thank you, Melanie,” Sammy echoed awkwardly as their drinks were placed in front of them.  The agent was staring at Dean again.

           Annoyed, Dean took a sip of his drink, put it back down on the table, crossed his arms on the table in front of him and stared back.

           Sammy finally figured it out and quickly grimaced, looking away.  “Sorry. Tell me about your father.  What was his name?”

           “John Winchester, currently deceased.  Mother was Mary Winchester.”  Dean frowned, watching the expressions flashing across the agent’s face.  “I know my dad’s dead because Adam, Levine that is, and I went and identified his body. County planted him somewhere, couldn’t tell you where exactly.  My mom, I don’t know about.”

           “Why not?” Sammy wanted to know.

           “Well, if you must know, because my parents went through one of those nasty divorces and my dad took me.”

           “Oh.”  Sammy’s green eyes were flickering rapidly, tracing after his racing thoughts.  “So he got custody of you and she got custody of…” He cleared his throat.  “Of your younger brother?”

           “No, actually my mom got custody of us both, me and Sammy.  Yeah, small world, huh?” Dean noted, seeing another odd look crossing the agent’s face. “Two Adams and two Sammys, counting you? But it’s not like either one is an uncommon name.”

           “No, they’re both pretty common,” Sammy said softly. “And I don’t think you understand just how small the world really is.”

           Dean sipped his drink again.  “So what, exactly, does this have to do with my brother Adam?”

           Sammy straightened his shoulders and pulled out a notepad and pen.  But then he paused.  “If your father lost custody of you, then how did…?”

           “I told you, Sammy.  He took me.  Literally took me, as in grabbed me, tucked me under his arm, shoved my mom down when she tried to stop him and then carried me out to the car.  I didn’t know what to do or think at the time, hell, I was just a little kid at the time and my brother Sammy was only a baby.  I just remember being scared to death, not understanding why my parents were fighting.  So I just sat there in my dad’s car and didn’t say a word for, like, days.  My dad’s partner that he worked with, Roman Levine, got into a huge screaming match with dad over taking me, but a few months later, Roman got killed and, according to dad, his last words were that he needed to take his son Adam.  At least that’s what dad told me when he showed up with Adam, Levine, not Milligan.  He kidnapped us both, we grew up on the run with him, and now we’re both twenty-eight and pretty much still running.  Cool story, huh, bro?”

           Sammy flinched as if slapped.  “Don’t call me that!”

           “Sure, Sammy, damn, you’re touchy.”  Dean fiddled in his drink with his straw.  “If you’re about to ask me why dad didn’t take Adam Milligan, well, traditionally the elemental thing is only passed to the firstborn.  Since I was dad’s firstborn, Adam didn’t have any more of a chance at turning into an elemental than anyone else in this town.  Lucky bastard, that meant he got to live a normal life, have a normal childhood. Until Shelton and Novak murdered him, that is!”

           “What about your youngest brother?” Sammy pressed. His green eyes were boring into Dean’s.  “Why didn’t your dad kidnap Sammy, too?”

           “Firstborn,” Dean stressed.  “Sammy, aren’t you listening?  The elemental trait is only sure in the firstborn!”

           “Oh.”

           Dean narrowed his eyes, appraising the agent. Sammy looked upset.  His jaw was working, and his hands were clenched around the pen and notepad.  So far, he hadn’t taken a single note, or even clicked his pen.  “Sammy?” he called.  “You want to tell me what this is really about?”

           The green eyes met his own.  “Did you ever get the feeling that you’ve been lied to your entire life?”

           “Uh, what?”

           “Nothing.”  He finally clicked his pen and prepared to write.  “What happened with Adam Milligan?”

           “I have no idea,” Dean confessed.  “I didn’t hear a damned thing about it until dad got a phone call late at night and dragged me and Adam out of bed and into the car.  Then he drove like hell, barely stopping, until he got back here.  And that was the first time I ever heard the name of Adam Milligan.  Until then, well, dad would leave us in motel rooms fairly regularly while he did jobs while we were growing up.  But when we grew up and our powers developed, he always took us along.  Except when we got near Elemental Falls.  Then he’d leave us in a motel room just like when we were kids.  We figured he didn’t want to answer questions about who we were.  But on that drive, he finally told us about Adam Milligan.  He told us about a brother I never knew I had, who had developed salamander powers and been murdered by a couple of cops. When he told me?”  Dean shook his head.  “Hell, I was stunned!  I never knew I had this brother, and now he was dead?  So I gotta tell you, Sammy, I’m damned glad to see you!  About time someone really looked into his death!”

           “Um, right.”  Sammy was interrupted by the unexpectedly quick arrival of their meals. 

           The two ate for a moment in silence, Dean brooding over his food until he realized that once again, Sammy was sitting still, staring at him.  “What?” he called, annoyed.  “Why do you keep staring at me?”

           “Why didn’t you ever try to contact your mother and your brother?” Sammy asked.

           “What difference does it make?”

           “Nothing, I’d just like to know.”

           Dean looked up, closely studying Sammy, and suddenly realized he was staring into eyes nearly identical to his own.  He froze for a long moment, green eyes staring hard at green eyes as an impossible idea took root and blossomed in Dean’s mind. “Dad took me away, Sammy,” he said quietly.  “He told me mom didn’t want me, that she’d moved away and left me behind.  And I believed him because I was a kid.  When I grew older, I did a bit of poking around that he didn’t know about.  And she really had moved away, shortly after he took me.  But you know, I never gave up, not really.  I just didn’t know where to look.”

           Sammy looked away, staring moodily down at his plate as he poked at his salad with a fork.  “That why you got so upset over Adam Milligan, a guy you never even met?”

           “Didn’t matter,” Dean said.  “I never knew him, but he was still my brother.  Blood’s blood, right?  And I get that he flipped out.  I get that he blew up a gas station and killed some people, and yeah, he had to pay for that.  But those two cops had no right to play judge, jury, and executioner to him.  Not to blood, Sammy.  So you need to do your job, and investigate this.  Find out what really happened that day.  But then, you need to come back to me, and let me deal with it.”

           Sammy blinked and started, as though coming out of a trance.  “Excuse me? I’m an FBI agent!  I don’t report to you, and you don’t, as you so nicely put it, ‘deal’ with it!  If this really was some kind of vigilante justice, then the last thing we need is more vigilante justice to follow it up!  Am I in any way unclear?”

           Dean sighed.  “Crystal.  I’m outta here.”

           “Wait!  Wh-where are you going?”

           “Back to the gutter where I belong.”

           “But…”

           “But what?” Dean asked, whirling around to face the so-called Agent Winch.  “As you’ve just made abundantly clear, you and I stand on very different sides of the fence. You’re an FBI agent, and I’m, well, just think about where, exactly, you first met me.  I’m a criminal, I’ve always been a criminal, and I’ll eventually die a criminal.  Just like my dad!”

           And now Sammy’s eyes grew hard.  “Then watch your ass, Winchester.  Because I’ll be watching.”

           “Shut up and pay the bill.  Then if you don’t want vigilantes, get busy and get some good old-fashioned justice for those damned cops!”

           “I’m on it.  Thank you for assisting in my investigation.”

           Dean nodded.  He shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and stormed out.

           He didn’t look back.

           All he wanted right now was Adam.  Dean’s head was spinning, and he desperately needed his friend to ground him again.   _Sammy.  My baby brother, all grown up and working for, of all things, the FBI?  How does something like that even happen?_

           Fortunately, the hot cop wasn’t there anymore. Good.  Dean wasn’t sure he could trust himself not to start a fight right now, and Crowley would be beyond pissed if he got himself arrested again.

           But when Dean went back to their room, Adam wasn’t there, either.  Looking out into the parking lot, he realized belatedly that Baby was gone.  Dean pulled out his phone, and called his friend.  It immediately went to voice mail.  Apparently, Adam had his phone off.  “Dammit, Adam!” he swore.  “Where the hell did you go?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun thought that Dean was doing so well right up until he decided to be stupid with the "let me deal with it" part. He was making all kinds of sense until then.


	12. Go To Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam goes to Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:  
> Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate - Abandon hope, all ye who enter here

           Adam stood in the lobby of the motel, watching as the beanpole of an FBI agent got between his hot-tempered friend and the good-looking cop in the trench coat.  He wasn’t sure what the sexy cop had said or done to piss Dean off, but eventually Tall Guy herded Dean away, heading towards, of all things, the restaurant across the street.  Adam had no idea what was going on, but there was no way to discretely contact Dean and find out.  Looked like he’d just have to wait and see.

           Meanwhile, Sexy Trenchcoat - what was his name, Neville? – had gotten on his cell phone and was making a call.  Adam discretely cracked the window open in the lobby and pressed his ear to it.

           “Blake?” the cop was saying.  “I found our salamander.  It’s Dean Winchester.  Yeah, I’m sure.  His father was Adam Milligan’s father, and we already suspected the father was an elemental. If Dean is the firstborn, that means he inherited the trait for certain.  Oh, another thing.  Our overgrown shadow, Sam Winchester?  Yeah, it’s not a coincidence they have the same last name.  Yeah.  I don’t know what happened that Sam thinks his brother and father were dead, but I suspect he’s finding out now.  Oh, he took Winchester to lunch.  No, I didn’t bow out, I wasn’t invited.  I don’t know, just stand here and wait, I suppose?  Levine? Still inside, probably.  Why?  Winchester’s our salamander, so…  No, I don’t really have anything better to do, I suppose, but shouldn’t we be getting back to the Fat Boys as soon as we ditch Winchester?  Sam, not Dean.  What lead? Really?  I thought you said you were going to lunch?  Oh, heh, I guess it worked, but then he ditched me, so…  Hide and seek?  Sure.  Yes, I’ll be careful.  Alright, Blake.  Later.”

           “Shit,” Adam swore quietly.  He’d learned a number of interesting things from that conversation.  His primary concern, though, was Dean.  If this FBI agent was somehow related to Dean, well, that complicated things.  The best thing to do, naturally, would be to get the guy as far away from Elemental Falls and the Business as possible as quickly as possible.  But first, he had to deal with Dean.  Dean had grown up believing he’d never see his younger brother again.  If this gangly asshole spilled the beans, it would seriously mess his friend up.  He’d need Adam then, and Adam intended to be there for him.

           But first, he had to ditch this cop.

           Adam had been standing behind a cigarette machine, out of sight to anyone who came into the lobby.  But the door never opened.  He dared to peek outside, but there was no one out there.  Sexy Trenchcoat had apparently moved off somewhere.  But where?  The restaurant?  Around the motel?  He had no idea.

           Didn’t matter.  The only thing that mattered was Dean.  Adam made up his mind.  He’d go to the restaurant and have a bite to eat, keep an eye on Dean in case his friend needed help.

           His thoughts were interrupted when his phone buzzed with a text from Crowley.  “Go to Hell” was all it said.  “Shit,” Adam swore again.  That kind of invitation from Crowley wasn’t one he could afford to ignore.  He scowled at the bulletin board, where a picture of Crowley smiled down at him from one of the lawyer’s election posters and wondered if this was about his bid for mayor.  Adam was almost tempted to stay and watch the election, just so he could see what sort of shady shit would go down as the criminal defense lawyer with his own crime syndicate battled it out with the corrupt police chief.  But unfortunately, he and Dean had discussed this latest job last night and had already decided to leave.  “Don’t shit where you eat” was a damned good rule to live by.  Adam and Dean intended to keep it.

           Now Adam just had to explain himself to Crowley.

           Adam tried to act nonchalant as he walked out the door, but when he stepped out into the parking lot, there was no sign of Sexy Trenchcoat.  He frowned, looking around, wondering where the cop had disappeared to in the few seconds it had taken Adam to walk to the door?  Maybe he’d gone into the restaurant?  No matter, he could have gone anywhere, even for a walk around the back of the motel. The important thing was, he wasn’t around to spy on Adam, and that was really all that mattered.

           Adam climbed into the Impala and started it up. A moment later, he was cruising down the highway, singing along to Katy Perry as he mentally rehearsed what he was going to say.  He was careful to keep checking behind him, making sure Sexy Trenchcoat hadn’t returned and started following him.  So far, so good.  But honestly, even if the detective had somehow managed to follow him, unless he was secretly a salamander, no one could follow Adam through the Gates of Hell.

           He parked in the employee parking lot outside of Purgatory, Crowley’s building, and went inside.  Crowley owned the building, but rented most of it.  There were doctor’s offices, a dentist, multiple small businesses and shops, a fitness center with an especially loud aerobics class, and even a Greek deli that sold mouth-watering gyros so good they could even, on occasion, tempt Dean away from cheeseburgers.  Adam remembered he hadn’t eaten lunch yet and made a mental note to grab one on the way out.  Assuming, that was, that he still had an appetite after meeting with the King of Hell.

           He took the elevator to the second floor, went down the hall, turned a corner, headed up a small flight of stairs, and walked to the office at the end of the hall.  “F. Crowley, Esq. Attorney At Law” was painted on the door.  Adam walked in and waved to the receptionist.  She smiled, waved back, and pressed a discrete button under her desk.  There was a click, and the door next to her desk unlocked.  Adam smiled his thanks and went in.

           Unlike the small, somber offices of the associates in his law firm, Crowley’s own office was bright, spacious, filled with expensive furniture and bits of art deco, and empty.  The fancy desk and chair were rarely used.  A needlepoint sampler, Adam had no idea who had made it, hung on the wall near the desk reading “Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate.”  The sampler swung out from the wall on one hinge when Adam pressed a button, revealing a small tunnel lined with fireproof ceramic plates about six inches square. This bore an inscription above it reading “The Gates of Hell.”

           Adam created a gout of flame at his fist and shoved his arm down into the tunnel, propelling the flame down through it and out the other side.  Then he quickly transformed his body into flames and followed the trail of fire he’d just created, emerging and reforming on the other end of the tunnel in a series of rooms lined with the same fireproof ceramic as the tunnel.  The firetrail was the only way in or out of Crowley’s real office, and only a salamander was capable of using it.

           Hell, as Crowley dubbed the secret subterranean office suite, was uncomfortably cool.  Apparently, Crowley was still having trouble with the air conditioning.  The idea that Hell could potentially freeze over amused Adam, but when he passed the group of goons lurking outside and entered Crowley’s office, the self-proclaimed King of Hell was anything but amused.

           “Fucking bullshit, this is!” Crowley growled.  “Same bloody system cools the building above as down here, yet it’s comfortable in the building and freezing in my office!”

           “Cold air sinks,” Adam reminded him, plopping into the chair across from Crowley’s desk.  “I’m here, what do you want?”

           Crowley glanced behind Adam, and then returned his gaze to the man in front of him.  “Where’s your lover?”

           “Dean’s busy, and you know we’re not like that.  What do you want, Crowley?”

           “What I want,” Crowley declared, “is for you to explain to me exactly what the fuck you’re thinking, telling me that you’re refusing this job!”

           “I’m thinking that you need to hire an outside contractor for this, that’s what I’m thinking!” Adam replied crossly.

           “You’ve done it before,” Crowley pointed out.  “And as you yourself reminded me, you and Winchester are my best operatives!  That was precisely why I wasted my own money to get the two of you out of your most recent mess, remember?”

           “Yeah, I remember.  But I also remember that our motto has always been ‘Don’t shit where you eat.’  And this is right here in Elemental Falls!”

           “Oh, don’t try to tell me that you’re getting sentimental about your dear old stomping grounds?” Crowley groaned.  “I was born in Elemental Falls, and while I grew up and was educated in Scotland, I came back as an adult and have lived here ever since.  I may do most of my activity through the office in Portland, but my true home was, is, and remains Elemental Falls, Maine. Meanwhile, the two of you may come back once a month for your mum, but beyond that, you’ve no more attachment here than anywhere else you’ve been!”

           “The point is, we do come back once a month,” Adam pointed out.  “As long as mom’s alive, we have to keep coming back. We’ll do little jobs for you here, like we’ve always done.  But we can’t do anything big!”

           Crowley pinched the bridge of his nose.  “Let me try to explain this to you, lad.  You’re a salamander.  We are unique among the elementals because we all share a close bond.  Fire seeks out fire and always has!”

           “I know this, alright?  But what’s it got to do with…”

           “You also know that no other elemental has suffered more than we have during the witchcraft trials,” Crowley continued calmly.  “More salamanders were drowned at the falls than sylphs were burned, undines were stoned, or pygmies were hung because we were the only ones who dared to try to fight back!  We wanted to fight back when we were elemental spirits, we fought when we were being persecuted as witches, and we have never stopped fighting to this day!”

           “Only now, our fight has to be subtle,” Adam finished.  “I have heard this speech so many times I have it memorized, Crowley, and being subtle is precisely what I’m talking about here! Dean and I…”

           “…Are my best operatives and the only ones I trust to be able to carry out an operation of this scale,” Crowley interrupted.  “If we succeed here, it’s the stepping stone to more power than our kind has ever wielded.  It’s critical, Levine!  And the two of you are going to make it happen.  This isn’t something you get to refuse!”

           “You don’t understand,” Adam explained patiently.  “My mother…”

           “If you’re that worried, I’ll move her to another facility outside of town.”

           “She’s got dementia!” Adam exclaimed.  “She needs stability and familiarity, and she gets it there.  All of the nurses know her and know our situation, and she’s lived here in Elemental Falls all of her life.  If she’s moved, she’ll have a major setback that she may not recover from!”

           “Then I suggest you are extra careful on this one.”

           “Crowley, this is bullshit!  I’m sorry, but you need to find someone else to do this job.  We’re out!  Soon as I get back, Dean and I are leaving.”

           Crowley looked at Adam, his brown eyes colder than the freezing air coming in from the vents.  “Is that your final answer?”

           “Yes.”  Adam got up. “I know this is going to make a problem for you, Crowley, and I’m sorry.  We’ll take a pay cut on the next job, ok?”

           “Mmm…”  Crowley appeared to be considering this.  “No. I’m afraid it’s not ok.”

           Before Adam could react, the group of goons outside Crowley’s office was on him, dragging him out of the chair and throwing him to the ground.  Adam knew better than to try to fight back.  He covered his head and curled into a ball, doing his best to protect himself as the five men made violent sport with him, hitting and kicking him as he lay on the ground until Crowley finally called for them to stop.

           Adam groaned, rolled over onto his stomach, and peered up at Crowley as the well-dressed man walked slowly around his desk and stood over him, leaning down to speak with him.  “Do I have your attention now?”

           “Yeah,” Adam grunted.  “Dammit, Crowley, you got other guys who could do this!”

           “But you two are the best.  You do everything but wet work, and you’re clearly the right men for the job.  But you’ve also clearly forgotten who it is who calls the shots here.  That will have to be rectified.  Now, whose decision was it to say ‘no’ to this job?”

           “Mine,” Adam replied quickly.

           “I thought so.”  He stood back up and nodded.  “Time for your lesson, then.”

           Adam suppressed another groan as the men pulled him roughly to his feet and held his arms.  Crowley had returned to his desk, pulling out a pair of leather gloves that he put on. Then he came back around, balled his fist, and punched Adam hard in the stomach.  “You’ve forgotten what you  _are_ , haven’t you, lad?” he snarled, sending his other fist into Adam’s face. “S _alamanders_ stick  _together_!  They look  _after_  their  _own_!  And when you’re  _called_ to do a  _job_  that can help your  _entire_  elemental  _family_? The  _last_  thing you  _do_  is  _refuse!”_

           Crowley punctuated his words with blows, battering at Adam with each one. “For fuck’s sake!” Adam yelled. “Stop hitting me!  I get the message, ok?”

           “You’d  _best_  see that you  _remember_ it!” Crowley snarled, landing a couple more punches. “Or the _next_ time it will be b _oth_  of you that gets  _reminded!_ Do I  _make_  myself _perfectly_  clear?”

           Adam spat blood.  “Crystal. Can I go now?  I’ll get you a punching bag for Christmas, Crowley.  Until then, stick to being a lawyer and let your thugs do the reminding, ok?  You hit like a fucking girl!”

           The King of Hell chuckled at that.  “Just as sharp with that tongue of yours as ever!  You’re a good operative, Levine, but one day, I’m going to find myself needing to give you a permanent attitude adjustment.”  He nodded to his thugs.  “Let him go.”

           Adam stumbled, barely managing to keep his feet as he was released.  His head throbbed, his body ached, and he was fairly certain he had a cracked rib.  But it would be worse, so much worse, if he defied Crowley again now.  Adam wiped at his bleeding lip.  “We’ll get the job done.”

           “See to it that you do.”  Crowley returned to his desk, pulled off his gloves, and carefully burned the blood off of the leather.  “Take care of the billboard first, preferably today.  Have a nice day!”

           “Yeah, fuck you, too.”  Adam turned and gingerly started limping back towards the tunnel.

           “Oh, Levine?” Crowley called after him.  “Do please clean yourself up a bit in the gents upstairs?  And take the back way out.  I wouldn’t do to have clients see you walk out of my office in the state you’re in, imagine!”

****

           Adam, cleaned of blood and grime but feeling his battered body start to swell and bruise, was nearly back to the car when a gravely voice said, “Who hurt you?”

           Startled, he whirled and there was Sexy Trenchcoat, walking quickly towards him.  Adam had no idea where he’d come from.  “No one,” he called.  “I fell down the stairs.”

           “Were those stairs named Fergus Crowley?”  The detective moved closer and dared to take Adam’s arm.  “Come with me to the station and press charges against him for assault.  We can protect you.”

           Adam laughed without humor.  “Oh, sure you can!  And all I have to do is become a bitch for Carson Daly like you are!  If I’m going to be bending over for someone, I’ll stick with Crowley.  At least he uses lube.”

           “You don’t look all that lubricated right now.” The man’s blue eyes moved over Adam, lingering on the cuts, swelling, and darkening bruises.  “Listen, Levine, if you come with me, we can…”

           “Leave me alone!” Adam ordered, jerking his arm free. “If I want some help from a damned cop, I’ll ask for it, ok?  But frankly, I think I’d need my head examined if I even considered it!”

           Sexy Trenchcoat backed off, raising his hands. “As you wish.  Can I give you my card in case you change your mind?”

           “Save the trees and get the hell away from me.” Adam quickly got into the Impala, slamming the door harder than necessary.  Then he squealed the tires on the way out, leaving the cop standing in a cloud of dust.  Dean would throw a fit if he knew, but right now Adam didn’t care.

           Adam drove until he was just on the outskirts of town and pulled off the road, parking where he’d be out of sight from anyone passing by, and got out of the car.  He waited until the road was clear.  Then he held up both hands.  They immediately burst into flames.  Adam focused, increasing the heat and intensity of the fire he held until it was a large fireball.  Then he launched it.

           The billboard was instantly burning.

           Adam quickly returned to the car and tapped out a rapid text.  “Toasted. Waiting for signal to continue.” Then he got back on the road and headed back into town.

           It was early, but Adam didn’t care.  He needed a drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun says: Crowley's a douche. Adam should have known better, he really should have known that was coming. And Cass is a ninja! I trained him well.


	13. Yer Cheatin' Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake tries to drown his sorrows and makes a new friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Diegetic song here is "Put A Quarter In the Jukebox" by Barry Manilow and Ronnie Milsap  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FXBpGTdPrWw

           Blake picked up quickly when Cass rang.  “Yeah, buddy?”

           “Blake?  I found our salamander.  It’s Dean Winchester.”

           “That so?” Blake asked.  “You sure?”

           “Yeah, I’m sure,” Cass confirmed.  “His father was Adam Milligan’s father, and we already suspected the father was an elemental.  If Dean is the firstborn, that means he inherited the trait for certain. Oh, another thing.  Our overgrown shadow, Sam Winchester?”

           “Our Sammy?  What about him?”

           “Yeah, it’s not a coincidence they have the same last name.”

           “Damn,” Blake breathed.  “Poor kid.  He know?”

           “Yeah.”

           “Oh, that’s rough.”  Blake suddenly felt sorry they’d put the poor guy through the Car Wash. Sammy was arrogant, rude, and a complete pain in the ass, but he was tougher than the other walking stiffs the Fibbies had sent them to break in.  Blake grudgingly realized he liked the guy in spite of himself.

           “I don’t know what happened that Sam thinks his brother and father were dead, but I suspect he’s finding out now,” Cass was saying.

           Blake frowned.  “What do you mean?”

           “Oh, he took Winchester to lunch.”

           “He did what?”  Blake straightened.  “What the hell was he thinking?  Wait, why are you not with them?  You bowed out of it?”

           “No, I didn’t bow out, I wasn’t invited.”

           “You…!”  Blake sighed. “Dammit, Cass!  Well, can’t be helped now, I suppose.  What’s your plan?”

           “I don’t know, just stand here and wait, I suppose?”

           “Yeah, I guess you can’t just invite yourself in now, can you?” Blake grumbled.  “Where’s the other suspect?”

           “Levine?  Still inside, probably,” Cass said.  “Why? Winchester’s our salamander, so…”

           “So, your current team is already split up,” Blake explained patiently.  “Sammy’s got Winchester, so you should probably spend your time watching Levine. Unless you have something better to do?”

           As usual, Cass missed Blake’s sarcasm.  “No, I don’t really have anything better to do, I suppose, but shouldn’t we be getting back to the Fat Boys as soon as we ditch Winchester?  Sam, not Dean.”

           “Actually, I’ve been chasing down a lead on that,” Blake said smugly.

           “What lead?”

           “I’ll give you all the details when I see you again, but I had actually just finished a phone call with our friends in Portland when I called you.  Turns out that a known associate of the King of Hell just turned state’s evidence. I’m waiting for the file to come over now.”

           “Really?  I thought you said you were going to lunch?”

           “I heard the echo and knew you had me on speaker,” Blake explained.  “And this is our case, Cass!  I’ll be damned if I’m going to let some smartass overgrown punk from the FBI take credit for our bust, even if he did turn out to be not as bad as I thought he’d be. Sorry, buddy I didn’t want to ditch you, just him.”

           “Oh, heh, I guess it worked,” Cass said, “but then he ditched me, so…”

           “Well, that may be a blessing in disguise.” Blake hesitated, and then reluctantly continued.  “Cass, I hate to ask this of you, but I think you need to do a bit of your special brand of surveillance on Levine.”

           Cass paused for a moment.  “Hide and seek?”

           “Yeah.  Something about those two just doesn’t add up, and I want to know what it is.  It’s probably nothing, but if Winchester’s the salamander, then the risk should be minimal.  Will you do it?”

           “Sure.”

           “You just be damned careful!” Blake warned. “Especially since we know Winchester’s an elemental.  I won’t be there to back you up if something goes wrong!  So watch your ass, ya hear?”

           “Yes, I’ll be careful.”

           “Please do, buddy.  And you call me right away if anything goes wrong!”

           “Alright, Blake.”

           “Alright.  Later, buddy.”

           “Later.”

           Blake hung up and hovered over the computer, waiting impatiently until the file from Portland finally came through.  Then he spent an hour pouring over it.  The perp was apparently a low-ranking member of the King of Hell’s organization.  That was, apparently, the biggest reason he was talking now.  He felt slighted after being treated like the lowlife thug he was. God bless criminal idiots with grudges against their bosses!

           Most of the information wasn’t new to Blake, but he spent another hour matching the dates and locations he’d provided with the known crimes of the Fat Boys.  Unfortunately, he didn’t find a single match.  That was both discouraging and encouraging.  There still wasn’t any real proof linking the Fat Boys to the King of Hell with this new information.  But it also meant that when he finally caught the fat bastards, no one would be after him to ship them to Portland.  

           After chasing them so long, Blake wanted his own piece of them.

           Unfortunately, he was still no closer to catching them.

           The thug had provided one interesting piece of information, though.  It seemed that the King of Hell had duped them all.  Always, the faint, all but untraceable trail of money and orders from the King had all led to Portland.  But the thug in custody had insisted that the King’s suspected headquarters in Portland, and all that were there doing the directing, were only a front. The real headquarters, he’d claimed, was located in an unknown town barely even on the map, somewhere to the south.

           Last time Blake looked, that could certainly describe Elemental Falls.

           His thoughts were interrupted by the siren call of Carson, yelling his name.  With a sigh, Blake rose and stuck his head into the chief’s office.  “You bellowed?”

           “That bastard Crowley!”  Carson was more upset than Blake had seen him in some time. “He just put out a campaign ad slandering me on the radio.  That son of a bitch!  I need ammunition, Shelton.  Where the hell is Novak?”

           “On the job with Agent Winchester.  Carson, normally I’d love to help you out, buddy, but I kind of have a lot on my plate right now, and…”

           “Table it!” Carson snapped.  “This is too important.  You know why I can’t lose this election, especially not to Crowley!”

           Blake groaned inwardly.  It took a lot to get under Carson’s skin, but no one could do it faster than Fergus Crowley.  “I know, boss, but…”

           Carson raised his hand.  “That limey bastard wants a war, he’s got it!”

           “Actually, I think he’s Scottish.”

           “Actually, I do not give a shit, Shelton.  Tell you what.  Go home, work on making that baby some more, and we’ll just write off the rest of your hours today.  Come back here tomorrow with a clear mind and find me a way to take Crowley down a peg or four.”

           “But boss, the Portland guys…”

           “Why are you still here, Blake?  Out!”

           Blake turned and quietly got his things.  He didn’t dare call or text Cass now, not if his partner was still playing Hide and Seek with Levine.  Too bad, he’d just have to wait until Cass called him to let him know their new assignment.

           Carson’s bid for mayor was starting to become problematic.

            Blake made it out to his car before he remembered he had nothing to go home to.  Gwen was at work, and when she returned…  No, he couldn’t let himself think about that now.  But now he had no desire to go home.  Cass's car was missing from the lot, meaning his partner had, at some point, swung by to pick it up or had someone drop it off somewhere for him.  That meant his partner could be anywhere.  No help there.

           He went to the Burning Priest, his favorite watering hole, instead.

           It was fairly early, so the crowd was sparse. All the regulars knew Blake, although he hadn’t been a frequent patron there since his marriage a year ago.  He smiled and waved as he was greeted, made his way to the bar, and ordered a drink.  Glancing around the bar, he was surprised to see Adam Levine was there, too. By the looks of him, he was already halfway to hammered as he hovered over the video poker machine.  He’d also obviously gotten involved a recent brawl. His face was bruised and his lower lip appeared to be split.  The fact that he was here and looking like that was a surprise.  But the fact that Cass wasn’t here and Levine had obviously taken a recent beating worried Blake until he looked at his phone and saw he’d missed a text from his partner.  Cass, apparently, had gone to Blake’s home to wait for him.  Blake sent back a reply that he had eyes on Levine and wouldn’t be home for a while, but that Cass should make himself at home.  Then he briefly wondered what had happened to Sammy? Eh, the agent had the numbers for both Blake and Cass.  They were hardly the guy’s babysitters.  Maybe he’d get flustered after meeting with his salamander thug of a brother and go back to the office where he belonged?  What he’d seen of the young agent so far made Blake suspect that field work wasn’t his strong suit.

           Another beer, a shot of whiskey.  More people were coming into the bar now, most of them greeting Blake and stopping for a moment to chat.  Levine was still at the video poker game.

           A baseball game was on the television, and Blake divided his attention between watching the game and keeping track of Levine. Levine had finally abandoned the video poker game and sat at the bar diagonally from Blake.  He, too, was watching the game.  He was drawing his share of attention from the female barflies, most of whom came up to try to talk to him.  Blake supposed he couldn’t blame them.  Levine was certainly good-looking.  Blake would have to ask Cass what he’d rate the man.  He and Winchester were both attractive men, and likely turned heads wherever they went.  But Levine didn’t seem interested in company at the moment.  He gave the women minimal attention, focusing primarily on the game, and eventually they left him alone.

           Then Blake had the misfortune of being spotted by Merv.  Merv Alfonse was a regular at the Priest, drunk more often than not, and, unfortunately, a self-proclaimed music critic.  Blake had gotten drunk once and made the mistake of singing on karaoke night. After that, the whole town seemed to have the idea that Blake should give up being a cop and become a country music star, and Merv was Blake’s biggest fan.  “Shelton!” Merv roared.  “Sing us a song!”

           “Dammit, Merv!” Blake protested.  “Every damn time you see me, that’s the first thing out of your mouth.  Not ‘Hello’ or ‘How you doing’ or even ‘How’s the weather?’  It’s always a song request from you!”

           “You can pick the song!” Merv defended.  “I just want to hear that golden voice of yours, man.”

           To Blake’s dismay, the rest of the bar apparently agreed.  Cheers and applause rose, along with a chant of “Sing!  Sing!  Sing!” Blake groaned.  “I am nowhere near drunk enough to sing right now.”

           “Could have fooled me,” Dave, the bartender, retorted. “Gimme your keys, Shelton.  I’ll toss ‘em at Jenkins and Miller over there so you don’t make any mistakes.  Meanwhile, you want another shot?  On the house if you sing us a song!”

           Blake looked down and realized he’d lost count of how many beers and shots he’d actually consumed.  No matter, he thought as he handed over his keys.  He certainly was not drinking his troubles away at the bar while his wife fucked another man somewhere.  But at least he understood why he’d even considered singing again.  His head was pleasantly buzzing.

           By now, a small crowd had gathered, all looking expectantly at Blake.  Blake sighed, downed the offered shot, and sat up straight on the stool.  Taking a deep breath, he began to sing.

_“She said she'd always love me.  She said she'd never leave me.  Then I wake up this morning, she's gone without warning!”_

            _What the fuck is wrong with me?_ Blake thought.  Not only was he sitting here singing a sappy song by Barry fucking Manilow, but he’d just started singing a duet!  He was clearly drunker than he thought.  Blake blushed and was about to start thinking of a different song to start again when a high, sweet, clear tenor suddenly rose from somewhere to his right.

            _“I know what you've been through, pal.  My woman left me too, pal!  I'm drinking to what used to be.  Here's a toast, the drink’s on me!”_

           Blake nearly fell off of his barstool.    Recovering quickly, he started in on the chorus, hearing the amazing tenor staying right with him in perfect harmony.

            _“What this joint needs is some music!  Someone put a quarter in the jukebox and we'll both forget about her!  Make the music louder, someone!  Put a quarter in the jukebox and we'll sing our cares away! Tomorrow is another day!”_

           Blake peered around the appreciative listeners, trying to spot the tenor as he went into the second verse.   _“It feels just like a dream!  We were such a winning team!  Oh, I'm sure it's true that love is blind, ‘cause leaving never crossed my mind!”_  

           And once more, the tenor joined in.  To Blake’s amazement, it was Levine!  The man looked quite drunk now and was grinning like a fool as he sang.   _“Another round on me, pal!  I feel the same you see, pal.  It's hard to face this endless day.  I've gotta drink the hurt away!”_

           Blake grinned back, joining in on another round of the chorus.   _Oh, buddy, you have no idea just how true this song really is!_   As drunk as he was right now, belting out this ancient song that he couldn’t believe he remembered the words to, Blake could finally admit the truth to himself. His marriage was over.  It was all just playacting now.  Blake let his broken heart flow into the song and was amazed to realize that Levine was singing back with just as much emotion.

_“What'll I do with the nights now that she's gone?”_

_“And what'll I do when the nights go on and on and someone!”_

_“Put a quarter in the jukebox!”_

           Blake saw Levine rise unsteadily from his stool and start moving through the parting crowd, moving towards Blake.  Blake started towards him as well, and by the time they’d reached the final chorus, the two were standing together with one arm around each other’s shoulders, belting out the song to the delight of the crowd.

           Cheers and applause rose as the song was finished and the two embraced each other like old friends.  “Damn, boy!” Blake whooped.  “You got a set of pipes on you!”

           “Look who’s talking!” Levine retorted.  He extended a hand.  “I’m Adam Levine.”

           “Blake Shelton.  Nice ta meet ya!”

           “Blake Shelton?”  Adam frowned.  “I’ve heard that name before.”

           “Hello?” Blake laughed.  “These idiots were yelling it to get me to sing!  Now they’ll yell for us both!”

           That made Adam laugh.

           More beer, more shots.  Adam, Blake learned, was fond of tequila.  Blake matched him shot for shot and got him to try some good vodka.  Soon, they were both completely hammered.  Adam told Blake about Behati.  Blake told Adam about Gwen.  They both agreed that the two women were a couple of bitches and took turns inventing creative ways that karma could repay their unfaithfulness.  

           “You know what the worst part was?” Adam was saying. “The worst part was that I had no idea she was cheating.  Zero. I was totally stunned when I walked in on them!”

           “I don’t know,” Blake drawled.  “I kind of think knowing is worse.”

           “Bullshit!  If I’d have known, I would have walked out on the bitch a long time ago.”

           Adam showed off the tattoos on his arms and chest. Blake admired and showed off the poorly-drawn representation of deer hooves he had on his arm.

           More drinks.  “What are you doing here in a backwater town like Elemental Falls?” Blake asked.  “With your voice, you should be a damned rock star!”

           “Yeah, and you should be a country star!” Adam retorted.

           Blake waved a hand.  “Half this town thinks I should be a country star.  But I’m not star material.  Not like you, Rockstar!”

           “Oh, knock it off, Big Country.”  Adam clapped him on the back.  “Leave your wife, and we’ll run off and start our musical careers! What the hell are you doing now, anyway, that you’re not on a stage somewhere with a guitar in your hands?”

           Even drunk, Blake knew better than to tell Adam what he really did.  “Right now? I’m sitting here drinking with you,” he said instead.  “That’s all that matters, right?”

           Adam accepted that with a toast.

           At some point, their fellow patrons demanded, and received, a reprise of the song.  It was just as well-received the second time as it had been the first.  Neither of the two had needed to pay for their drinks for some time now.  Adam was perched on Blake’s lap – how the hell had that happened? – and Blake’s arm was tight around his waist, keeping the smaller man from falling off as he excitedly yelled at the television.  The show as a police procedural, which Blake usually hated.  But somehow, watching it with Adam made it fun.  He pointed out the inaccuracies of the show, which usually drove Gwen nuts, but only made Adam laugh.

           Making Adam laugh was quickly becoming one of Blake’s favorite things.

           “How do you even know that song?” Blake thought to ask.  “It’s an oldie from way back!  I’m amazed I could remember the words.  You’re so young you probably weren’t even born yet when it was out!”

           “My mom,” Adam explained, leaning back against Blake in a state of drunken bliss.  “She loved Barry Manilow, and that was one of her favorite songs. Honestly, I can’t believe I remember the words, either.”

           “Think we got them right?”

           “Who gives a shit?”

           “I like your attitude!”

           “You’re about the only one who does, pal.”

           “Eh, fuck ‘em, right?  Right now, I like damned near everything about you.”  Blake smiled and held Adam a little tighter. Adam let his head loll back against Blake’s shoulder, the bleary hazel eyes smiling back at him.  Blake grinned and pressed a kiss to his temple, which made Adam groan in protest and swat at him.

           Blake honestly had no idea how the two of them had ended up in the dark, narrow alley behind the bar.  But here he was, pressing Adam against the brick wall, holding him tight and kissing him.  Adam, he discovered, was a great kisser.  Blake had never been interested in men before, although he was open to the idea. In the back of his mind, a dry voice was warning him that he was a police detective, drunk out of his mind, standing behind a bar in an alley that reeked of drunken puke and piss, making out with a known criminal.  But something about Adam made him somehow different.  Right now, Blake didn’t give a shit that Adam was male, or that Blake was a cop.  This wasn’t even about tit for tat with his cheating wife.  Adam was something special, something Blake had never encountered before.  All he knew was that he wanted more.

           Or maybe it was just the fact that they’d both been thrown over by the women they loved.

           Or maybe it was just the alcohol.

           Whatever the reason, Blake was very much enjoying himself.  Beneath his squeezing hands, Adam’s ass was firm.  Adam’s back was against the bricks, his legs tight around Blake’s waist and his arms around his neck.  He made needy little sounds as they kissed that were driving Blake wild, and things were getting more and more interesting by the minute.  Blake was already rock hard.  His dick was rubbing against Adam’s ass, and he could feel Adam’s answering erection pressing against his stomach.  Blake thrust forward experimentally and Adam answered with a sharp cry.  He raised one hand to Adam’s hair, gripping it tight as he attacked the smaller man’s mouth.  The response was quite satisfying.  Adam’s legs tightened around his waist.  His hips rolled slightly, grinding against Blake’s body until Blake was giving serious thought to throwing him down on the nearest available surface and fucking him until he begged for mercy.

           Then Blake tasted blood and drew back in surprise. Adam’s injured lip had been reopened by the intensity of their kissing, and blood was running down his chin. “Aw, shit, sorry,” Blake apologized, letting Adam down and using the knuckles of his hand to wipe the blood away.

           “Not your fault,” Adam replied.  “Occupational hazard.  I pissed off the wrong people and they let me know it upset them.”  He stumbled and fell, sliding down the wall to land in a heap on the ground.

           “You ok?” Blake asked, concerned.  “I…”

            _“Hey!”_

           Blake looked up to see Dean Winchester, standing at the rear door of the Priest.  The green eyes looked at Adam, lying battered, bruised and bleeding on the ground. Then they flicked to Blake, lingered on the blood on his hand, and then moved up to his face where they grew hard. Winchester’s face flushed with fury as his mind jumped to exactly the wrong conclusion.

           “Whoa!” Blake cautioned as the furious man stalked forward.  “You…”

           But before Blake could say anymore, stars exploded before his eyes as Winchester hauled off and punched him in the face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun thinks Dean is about to get an old-fashioned country ass kicking. Says Blake would wipe the floor with that city boy, especially since he's drunk enough not to feel anything.


	14. Hello?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cass struggles to understand the events around him while dealing with his own one-track mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music (non-diegetic) here, and main theme for Cass, is "Hello" by Lionel Richie  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=62XB9IbMnxQ
> 
> Diegetic song towards the end here is "The Name Game" by Shirley Ellis

           Cass had no practical experience with the process, but he was fairly certain none the less that this was what it felt like to go insane.

           He sat on the sofa, but he felt restless and got back up.

           He went into the kitchen and looked in the fridge, but nothing appealed to him.

           He went back to the sofa and picked up a magazine, but quickly discovered he wasn’t actually reading a word.

           He went out to Blake’s front porch and sat on the swing.

           He came back inside and rooted through the cupboards in Blake’s kitchen.

           He went into the bathroom and splashed water on his face.

           He went outside again and paced restlessly around on the porch.

           He went back inside, back to the bathroom and turned on the water.  Then he ducked his head under the faucet, letting the cold water soak his hair and chill his head.  Turning off the water and standing back up, he glared into his own mirrored eyes, seeing the cold water running down his face to soak the collar of his shirt. “For fuck’s sake!” he yelled at the man in the mirror.  “He wasn’t that good-looking!”

           Except he was.  Oh, he was!

           Suddenly, Cass felt he understood why people had such a hard time breaking addictions to things like drugs or cigarettes.  No matter what he did, he couldn’t stop thinking about green eyes, freckles across a perfect nose, the way he’d moved, how his ass had looked in those jeans as he’d walked away…

           “Dammit!”  Cass quickly undressed and stepped into Blake’s shower.  He turned the cold water all the way up and stood under the spray. A minute later he was soaked and shivering.  But still, again and again his mind returned to Dean Winchester.

           This was getting ridiculous.

           After Levine had taken off, Cass had returned to the diner to find that Sam Winchester had apparently left.  When Cass got there, Dean Winchester was outside, pacing around where Cass recalled the Impala being and swearing creatively. “Problem?” Cass asked.

           Dean whirled around and swore again. “Holy…!  Where the hell did you come from?  Damned ninja cops!”

           “You appear to have lost your ride.  I was about to call for a lift back to my station. I could get my vehicle there.  Might I be of assistance?”

           “Listen, you murdering piece of shit, the only thing I want from you is for you to leave me the fuck alone!”

           Cass raised his hands in surrender.  “Suit yourself,” he’d said.  He’d watched as Winchester, disgusted, had stormed back into the motel.  Then he’d called for a car to pick him up and take him back to the station.

           By the time the car arrived and he was back at the station, Blake had already been sent home by Carson.  Suddenly faced with extra time on his hands, Cass had texted Blake and gone to his home.  But Blake wasn’t there.  Cass eventually received a response from Blake, telling him to wait there. Alright, then.

           That was about the time he’d started obsessing over Dean Winchester.

           Cass dried up, got dressed, and went back out onto Blake’s porch swing.  This time, he lay down on the swing, closed his eyes, and just let the thoughts come. He’d had crushes before, often enough that he certainly recognized the signs.  But this one was mind-boggling.  It was, he realized, the very anger that Winchester had shown to him that drew Cass’s attention.  When he was angry, his cheeks colored and his green eyes flashed.  The effect was dazzling.  And no matter what, Cass couldn’t stop thinking about it, even though that anger was clearly directed at him.

           Cass had wanted to be a counselor most of his life, specifically to help those his mother had always called “bad boys.”  But shortly after finishing school, Cass had realized that what he really wanted to do was be a cop and put those same “bad boys” behind bars.  The incident that had changed his mind had been the savage beating of an old friend of his for the crime of having been born in the Middle East.  Although Cass still believed in the value of counseling, first and foremost it was imperative to get these thugs off the street, lock them away where they couldn’t hurt innocent people.  It was the innocents, not the criminals, who needed protecting. And on the times when the law failed to protect the innocent, well, Cass quickly discovered that he wasn’t above working around the law to protect the people of his town.

           In a nutshell, Cass had never cared for bad boys. He’d never been interested in them, and he’d certainly never had a crush on one.  That was why he was so confused now.  Dean Winchester was, without a doubt, a bad boy.  The first time Cass had run into the man, he’d been in handcuffs at the police station.  He’d even tried to spit on Cass, for heaven’s sake, resulting in a need for a quick attitude adjustment.  At the time, he’d been almost as angry as he was now, and Cass hadn’t thought much about him other than that he certainly belonged behind bars.  But meeting him today, seeing the anger rise in those green eyes as he’d yelled, the way the color had risen in his face, and, tell the truth and shame the devil, the fact that he’d called Cass “hot as hell” had touched something in him that no one else ever had.  Cass knew he was a good actor.  He didn’t think Winchester suspected anything, as he’d kept a straight face.  But his heart had been pounding so hard he was almost surprised the other man couldn’t hear it.  And now there was no hiding from the truth.  Cass couldn’t stop thinking about him.

           Bad enough that Winchester was obviously a criminal.  But even worse, he was quite likely also their rogue salamander.  The fact that he was willing to utilize his elemental powers to do something like set off the fire alarm in the police station was troubling and spoke of a lack of forethought and self-control.  While Cass’s family on his mother’s side had been immigrants from Russia, his father could trace his roots back for generations in Elemental Falls.  He’d regaled him and his older sister all through his childhood with stories about the elementals here in the town, and most especially The Rules.

           Elementals always passed their powers to their firstborn child.

           Elementals might move away during their lifetimes, but their children or grandchildren would always find themselves drawn back to Elemental Falls.

           Elementals did not recklessly use their powers in any way that might draw attention to themselves or the town.

           Except in cases of emergency or self-defense, an elemental never ever used his or her powers to harm someone else.

           And perhaps most important of all, the people of Elemental Falls policed their own.  Defense lawyers like Crowley might sneer and call the police corrupt, but no one wanted someone like Sam Winchester poking around in the business of the town.  Through the years, they’d found that flat-out telling outsiders the true nature of the town was actually the best way to get them out.  Not many were comfortable being in a town where any passing person on the street might be capable of summoning elemental powers.  Outsiders rarely stayed unless they married and had families here.

            But in Sammy’s case, well, he had family here, didn’t he?  For the first time, they were dealing with an outsider with a true link to the town.  For the first time, they had a chance to make some real connections to an outside agency. With the power of the FBI behind them, well, the Elemental Falls police department didn’t need anyone looking too closely into things like the death of Adam Milligan.  Sammy could prove to be a real asset.

           Cass wasn’t worried at all about the agent possibly turning on them and setting up actual murder charges against him and Blake. Since the witchcraft trials and the toll it had taken on the town, the elder elementals had joined forces to make sure that Elemental Falls kept its autonomy.  Their families were old and well-established.  They had little trouble convincing outside agencies that letting the powerful elementals police their own was worth the price of looking the other way.  That was why the penalty for breaking The Rules was severe.  The people of Elemental Falls did whatever they had to do in order to protect the secrets of their families.  And when he and Blake had taken Adam Milligan out to the falls, they were only the most recent in a long, long line of townspeople acting to protect the town’s secrets.  Everyone in town knew that.

           But Dean Winchester hadn’t grown up in the town, had he?  He was a drifter.  Had anyone ever taken the time to tell him The Rules?  Had the lovely salamander ever in his life had anyone to teach him exactly what he was?

           Well, obviously he had his father, right?

           Looking him up wasn’t stalking or creeping.  Cass was simply doing research.

           Typing Winchester’s name into the police database on Blake’s computer revealed a long criminal history.  No surprise there.  But what he found in the early records did surprise him.  “Kidnapped?” he exclaimed.  “By his own father?  Him and Levine both!”

           John Winchester’s criminal record was nearly twice as long as his son’s.  The man had lived a violent life and had died just as violently, found stabbed and drowned in a lake just outside of Little Rock, Arkansas.  The fact that he’d been drowned may or may not have indicated that his murderers knew he was a salamander.  After all, millions of people had been drowned, not just salamanders.

           Still, Cass’s gut told him that the fact he’d been murdered using the one sure method to kill a salamander hadn’t been coincidence.  And then the younger Winchester had learned that his half-brother had been drowned as well? No wonder he was upset!

           But one thing about John Winchester puzzled Cass – Levine.  Why kidnap a second boy?  Maybe Winchester was a pervert?  But there was nothing in his long criminal history to suggest that.  So why would a man already wanted for kidnapping one child take the risk of coming back to the scene of his first crime to kidnap another?

           That was when Cass’s mind made one of those intuitive jumps that seemed to delight Blake and Carson so much.

           He quickly looked up Levine, concentrating on family.  And there it was, Roman Levine, with a criminal record just as long as the elder Winchester.  Cass did a quick date and location comparison and confirmed his suspicions.  Both men were frequently arrested in the same place on the same dates.  They’d been working together, and Levine had died first.  According to the reports, he’d been stabbed and drowned as well, only someone had apparently rescued him before he’d died of drowning.  Although there were signs consistent with drowning, the final cause of death had been listed as blood loss from the stab wounds.

           Once again, Cass’s mind jumped.

           He had something, he was sure of it.  But unfortunately, there was nothing he could do about it now.

****

           He’d dozed off watching TV on Blake’s couch. But he woke up quickly when the door opened.  “Blake?” he called, sitting up.

           “Oh!  Hey, Cass!” It was Gwen.  “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

           Cass rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and glanced at his watch.  He was surprised to discover it was already 1900.  Frowning, he checked his phone for a message from Blake.  Nothing.  Odd. “Have you heard from Blake?”

           “No, but he’s probably gone out,” Gwen informed him, coming over to sit next to Cass on the sofa.  “He thought I wouldn’t be here, but my plans seem to have not worked out.”

           “Oh.”  Cass shifted uncomfortably.  Gwen was, as usual, sitting very close to him, pressing up against him despite there being plenty of room on the couch.  It bothered him.

           Cass had realized some time ago that Gwen was attracted to him, despite knowing his sexual preferences.  She’d asked several times if Cass had “ever considered” being with a woman.  It was a question that Cass had been asked multiple times in the past, and wasn’t an infrequent one for a gay man.  That was why he’d made the mistake of telling her that he had nothing against women and was certainly open to the idea, but that he preferred men.  And that’s when it had started.  Many women openly flirted with Cass, considering him “safe.” But Gwen had taken it uncomfortably far. Then a couple of days ago, she’d actually cornered him in Blake’s kitchen with Blake himself right outside on the porch and tried to kiss him.  When he’d immediately pushed her away, she’d laughed as if it was a joke. But that had been the last straw for Cass.

           Unfortunately, trying to talk to Blake had been less than successful.  For whatever reason, Blake refused to even let the subject come up.

           It hurt Cass to think his friend might have already known, but there was no other explanation for his behavior.

           “You’re so tense!” Gwen was saying.  “I won’t bite!”

           “I never insinuated that you would bite me, Mrs. Shelton.”

           She giggled at this.  “Oh, come on!  Do you want me to tell Blake you’re afraid of me?”

           “I’m not afraid of you, Mrs. Shelton.  I’m simply not comfortable being alone with my partner’s wife in his home when he’s not here.”

           “Why?” she pressed.  “Think I’m going to attack you or something?”

           “Do you have any idea where he might be?” Cass asked, getting up from the sofa.  “I really should find him.”

           “He’ll be back sooner or later.  Why don’t you just sit back down and relax?”  Gwen patted the sofa next to her.  “You haven’t been in our house in ages!”

           “Actually, that’s not true.  I was here just the other night, while you were allegedly at your mother’s.”

           Her eyebrows went up.  “Allegedly at my mother’s?”

           Cass grimaced.  “Sorry.  It’s the detective in me.”

           “Oh?”  She narrowed her eyes him.  “If I wasn’t at my mother’s, then where was I?  Deduce, me, Sherlock!”

           Cass sighed.  “I’ll wait outside.”

           “Oh, come on!” Gwen exclaimed, laughing.  “I’m only teasing you!  Sit down, Cass, and tell me why you’re suddenly so weird around me. We’re friends!”

           Cass reluctantly sat back down.  “Actually, Blake and I are friends.  In fact, I consider him to be my best friend.  I’m friendly with you because you happen to be my best friend’s wife.  But while I consider you an acquaintance, we never shared the sort of personal connection that one would expect as the hallmark of a friendship.”

           She laughed again.  “That’s our Cass!  But seriously, I’m hurt.  You never considered me a friend?  Well, you want a personal connection, let’s make one!”

           Cass eyed her.  “What do you mean?”

           “Well, what do you like?”

           He frowned in confusion.  “What do I like?”

           “Yeah, what do you like?  I like gardening, songs with lots of energy, and guys with pretty blue eyes.”  She smiled again.  “You?”

           His frown deepened.  “Well, I enjoy kite flying and sailing with Blake on our boat. And I am also rather partial to guys with pretty eyes.”

           “Can I be nosey and ask if you’ve ever been attracted to Blake?”

           “Of course you can be nosey and ask.  Any suggestions at all as to where Blake might be?”

           She blinked, and then smiled.  “I think that’s him pulling into the driveway now.”

           Cass breathed a sigh of relief.  “Excuse me,” he said, rising.  “I really do need to speak to my partner.”

           “Of course!  Pleasure talking to you, Cass!”

           Cass gave her a small smile and headed outside, looking for Blake.  But even though he recognized Blake’s car, it wasn’t Blake climbing out of it. “Officer Jenkins?” Cass asked, confused. “Why are you driving Blake’s car?”

           “He asked me to,” Jenkins replied, heading back to the Camero that had followed him.  “Jeff Miller and I usually carpool and we saw Shelton at the Priest.  He was pretty deep in his cups, so we brought his car back for him so he didn’t make any mistakes.”

           “Mistakes?  Blake hardly ever gets drunk!” Cass said.

           “Yeah, well, he’s on a bender right now,” Jenkins said, looking serious.  “Something up with the big guy?  He drinks as much as the next guy but you’re right.  He very rarely gets hammered, especially not all alone.”

           “Yeah, why don’t you go see what you can do for him, Novak?” Miller called from the Camero.  “If nothing else, you can give him a ride home.”

           “I’ll take care of it.  Thank you.”

****

           The Burning Priest was across town from where Blake lived.  Cass had barely gotten halfway when he saw a familiar figure ahead.  Dean Winchester was walking along the sidewalk with his leather jacket held over one shoulder.  Cass sucked in his breath.  He’d been daydreaming about the man all day, and here he was, the muscles in his legs and ass flexing nicely as he made his way up the hill.  No way he’d get another chance like this anytime soon!  Cass briefly considered his options, and then steeled his resolve.

           Winchester looked simultaneously angry and worried.  But he blinked in surprise when Cass pulled up, rolled down the window, and leaned out to speak with him.  “Where do you need to go?  I’ll give you a lift.”

           “Dude, are you for real?” Winchester exclaimed, out of breath.

           “I assume you’re referring to my offer being real, as opposed to actually asking if I am real,” Cass said.  “Yes, the offer is real.  It’s quite a steep hill you’re climbing here, and you’re out of breath and covered in sweat.  This vehicle is a better method to get where you’re going.  Get in.”

           “You know, you are seriously starting to creep me out!” Winchester complained.  “Why do you keep wanting me to get into your car?  It’s like you’re trying to kidnap me or something!  Just leave me alone!”

           Cass frowned.  “Kidnap you?  I’m an officer of the law!  I have no intention of kidnapping you!”

           “Then leave me alone!”

           “Look, Winchester, you obviously have a bone to pick with me,” Cass said.  “And I understand that, I do.  But right now, I’m worried you’ll collapse if you keep trying to climb this hill, and I would prefer not to have to do CPR on you.”  Cass forcefully squashed a mental image of himself doing mouth-to-mouth on this beautiful man and continued.  “I’m heading clear across town to try to find my partner.  I can drop you off at the Burning Priest or anywhere in between.”

           “Burning Priest?  What the hell kind of place is that?”

           “Popular watering hole, on the other end of town.”

           Winchester frowned.  “Watering hole, like a bar?”

           “I’m not asking you for a date!”   _Yet,_ Cass thought silently to himself.  “I’m just telling you where I’m going.  And yes, it is a bar.”

           “Alright.”

           “Uh, what?”

           “Alright, take me to the Burning Priest.”

           “Oh!”  Cass quickly unlocked the door.  “Get in.”

           Cass had a few seconds while Winchester walked around the car and climbed into his passenger seat to try to collect himself. By the time his passenger had fastened his seatbelt, Cass felt he had regained adequate control.  He started moving again and his mind raced, trying to find a way to break the ice.  “I take it you’ve never been to the Priest?” he asked.

           “I’m a recovering alcoholic.  I can handle a beer or two, but I tend to avoid bars as a general rule.”

           “Oh.”  Cass wanted to climb into a hole and pull it after himself.   _Oh, perfect way to start this conversation,_  he berated himself.   _The guy already hates you, so why not make it even worse?_ “Sorry,” he apologized.  “I had no idea.”

           Winchester didn’t answer.  He stared moodily out the window.

           “If you’re a recovering alcoholic who avoids bars, then why do you want to go to the Priest?” Cass blurted.

           “Looking for my friend.”

           “Oh,” Cass said again.  Then he drove in silence, not sure of what else he could say without risking upsetting Winchester even more.  He opened his mouth, about to ask about his friend.  But then he quickly closed it.  Winchester might not know Levine had been beaten during his visit to Purgatory.  Telling him would no doubt cause Winchester to start asking questions Cass wasn’t prepared to answer.

           Unfortunately, that left Cass at a complete loss for conversational topics.

           “Pretty hot today,” he tried.

            “The heat never bothered me.”

            “Oh.”  Of course not.  He was a salamander.  “I bet you’re happier in the heat, aren’t you?  You must be miserable in the winter when…”

           “Look,” Winchester grumbled, still staring out the window.  “Nice of you to offer me a ride, but don’t think this even starts to make up for what you did, ok?  Now do me a favor and just shut up and drive!”

           Cass shut up and drove, enduring the most awkward silence he’d ever experienced.

           When he parked in the parking lot of the bar, Cass was frustrated, upset, and fully believing that he’d never, ever stand even the slightest chance of getting through to the beautiful man already scrambling out of his passenger seat.  Irritated, Cass climbed out of his car and intentionally quickened his step so that he could get ahead of Winchester and walked into the bar first.  It had occurred to him that, as upset as Winchester became with him, if Blake really was drunk, it might be best if Cass gave him even a second of warning.

           But Blake was nowhere to be seen in the bar.

           Confused, Cass looked around again.  Maybe Blake had gone home?  He didn’t have his car, but maybe he’d gotten a ride?  He looked back for Winchester and saw him speaking with a couple of people near the entrance.  They were laughing and pointing towards the rear door of the bar. As Cass watched, Winchester’s expression darkened.  Then he went storming past and shoved his way out the door.

           A moment later, Cass heard him yelling.

           Cass charged through the door after him just in time to see Winchester lay Blake out on the pavement.  “Winchester!” Cass barked, running up behind him to grab his arms and shove him against the wall.  “Blake, are you alright?’

           “Let go of me, you son of a bitch!” Winchester yelled, trying with a fair amount of success to throw Cass off.  “Come on, you bastard, you want to fight someone, fight me!”

           “Deeeeaaaaan!” called a drunken voice from somewhere near Cass’s knee.  “Deanie! Dean-o!”

           “It’s ok, buddy, I’m here,” Winchester soothed. “Get off of me, you prick!  I…”  Winchester paused and swallowed hard.  Blake had gingerly picked himself back up off of the ground and was looming over him, looking very annoyed.  “Ok, so you’re big.  I don’t care, I’ll still kick your ass!  What did you do to Adam?”

           “Alright, I can see how this probably looks,” Blake said, gingerly rubbing at his chin.  “You come out here and your buddy’s on the ground covered with bruises…”

           “Oh, is that what’s got you upset, Winchester?” Cass asked.

           “The Deanmiester!” Levine sang.

           “Yes, that’s what got me fucking upset!” Winchester yelled, struggling.  “You beat the hell out of my best friend!  You’re damned right I’m upset!”

           “Blake didn’t beat him up,” Cass assured.

           “How the fuck would you know that?”

           “Look, pal, I didn’t beat him up, alright?” Blake sighed.  “Ask him yourself!”

           “D-dog!” Levine proclaimed, gazing fondly at Dean.

           “Get off of me!” Winchester demanded.

           Cass looked at Blake, who waved him irritably ahead. Then he reluctantly let go of Winchester.

           Winchester shoved him away and quickly crouched down, taking Levine’s shoulders and giving the drunken man a gentle shake. “Adam?  Who beat you up?”

           “Deanie, Deanie, bo beanie!  Banana banna fo feanie!”

           “Come on, Adam, dammit, focus!  Who beat you up?  Was it this asshole here?  Did he hit you?”

           “Blake Shelton,” Levine chuckled, “is a great kisser!”

           “What?”

           “Huh?” Cass echoed, staring wide-eyed at Blake. Blake grinned and shrugged.

           “Blake Shelton?” Winchester exclaimed.  “I should have fucking known!  No, get the hell away, I don’t need help from either one of you!”

           Both Blake and Cass had stepped forward, intending to help Levine up.  Both now backed off, watching quietly as Winchester struggled with his friend. Levine’s knees buckled a couple of times before he finally managed to stay upright.  He blew an exaggerated kiss towards Blake as his friend led him away.  “Byyyyyyeeeee, Big Country!”

           “See you later, Rockstar,” Blake called.

           The two watched as Winchester all but dumped Levine into the Impala, climbed in himself, and quickly pulled out of the parking lot, heading back towards the motel.

           “What do you rate them, Cass?” Blake wanted to know.

           “Ten, definitely,” Cass replied absently, still looking after the car.

           “Yeah, I agree, and I’ve never even been into guys,” Blake said.  He leaned in closer to Cass’s ear and lowered his voice to a secretive whisper.  “I gotta tell you something, buddy.  It’s possible that I might be a bit drunk.”

           “You don’t say.”  Cass patted his friend on the shoulder.  “Come on, big guy, let’s get you back home.”

****

           A few minutes later, Cass was assisting Blake into the house.  Fortunately, Gwen didn’t wake up.  Cass did not want to have to deal with her again, especially if Blake happened to start talking about making out with Levine.  “You think you can make it upstairs, or are we going to the couch?”

           “Couch,” Blake groaned.  “Fuck stairs.”

           “Alright, buddy.  This way.”

           “You’re so good to me, Cass!  You’re such a good friend!  Did you see that Levine guy?  Damn!”

           “I did, but honestly I was focusing more on his friend.”

           Blake sat down on the sofa with a thump and blinked up at Cass.  “You have a crush?  Holy shit, you have a crush!  I thought you didn’t like bad boys?”

           “I don’t, but yeah, I definitely have a crush,” Cass sighed.  “I don’t know.  Maybe I’m just lonely.”

           “I know,” Blake declared, “precisely what you mean!  I’m married, but I’m lonesome as hell.  The woman I married?  I don’t have any real idea who she actually is, you know?  And she’s out there somewhere with some other guy…”

           “Blake, she’s upstairs,” Cass explained patiently. “You’re not alone tonight.”

           “No, I’m not,” Blake slurred.  “I have you!”

           And suddenly Cass was on his back on the sofa and his best friend was kissing him.  For a moment, he was so startled he simply allowed it.  But then he squirmed, pushing hard against Blake’s chest.  “Get off of me!”

           Blake backed off, his blue eyes filled with hurt. “You don’t want me, either?”

           “Blake, there was a time, not that long ago, that I would have given damned near anything for there to be something more between us than friendship,” Cass said, sliding back away from Blake.  “But I’m not what you need right now.”

           Blake leaned back against the sofa and sighed. “No.  You’re not.  Dammit, though, I wish you were.  You’ve always been there for me, always had my back!  Even that Milligan thing, I knew I could count on you.  I love you for that, man.  For always being my friend.”

           Cass smiled, patted Blake on the shoulder, and got up.  “Gwen’s upstairs, but if you need me to stay, I will.”

           “Then stay.”

           “Alright.”  Cass moved to the kitchen and returned with a glass of water.  This he pushed at Blake.  “Drink this, and I’ll settle into the recliner.  You are going to have one hell of a morning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun says that Blake is a dirty manwhore, Cass really needs to figure out what is going on with him. Also says the fight was too short. He really wanted Blake to kick Dean’s ass, or, as he said, "at least knock him down on his ass like he did Blake!" But agrees that Cass, being right there, wouldn't have stood back and let that happen. Also said that Cass needs to make him drink about a gallon of coffee and that he and Adam are going to be horribly, horribly sick in the morning!


	15. How's Your Hangover?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam has one hell of a hangover, but Dean isn't about to show him any mercy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song I used for the last part of this chapter (non-diegetic) is "Breaking The Law" by Judas Priest  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GEy6ThJwE3s

           “Gooooood morning Vietnam!” Dean yelled at the top of his lungs as he banged a wrench against the radiator in their room.

           Adam jumped out of bed with a yell of surprise, and the curtains immediately caught fire.  Dean casually brushed a hand over them, collecting the flames and quickly extinguishing them as Adam looked wildly around for any sign of attack.

           Dean calmly put the wrench down, took his bewildered and wincing friend by the arm, and pulled him over to the window.  “So!” he called loudly as he opened the blinds, allowing the morning sun to stream directly into Adam’s eyes.  “How’s your hangover this morning, huh, Adam? Feeling awesome, are we?”

           “You son of a bitch!” Adam moaned, clutching his head in pain and turning from the blinding light.  “I think I’m gonna be sick!”

           “Oh, that would be something new!” Dean declared.  “If, that is, I hadn’t already cleaned your sorry ass up twice during the night!  Why do you think you’re topless?  Oh, I see,” he realized, seeing Adam look down at his bare chest in confusion.  “You don’t remember it, and you didn’t even realize you weren’t wearing a shirt!  Typical.”  Still holding tightly to Adam’s arm, Dean marched his friend to the bathroom.  Once inside, he shoved Adam, fully clothed, into the shower and turned the cold water on.

 

           “Mother of fuck!” Adam yelped.  “What the hell did I do last night to piss you off this much?”

           “Oh, where do I start?  Hmm, let me think, how about not calling me after someone beat the shit out of you?”  Dean was yelling again, but this time, his face was flushed in anger.  “You got your ass kicked and you needed me, dammit! Why the fuck didn’t you call me?”

           “There wasn’t anything you could have done,” Adam groaned.  “It was Crowley again!  Remember what happened when we tried to fight back the last time he had us beaten?”

           Dean grimaced.  “I know it got a lot worse than maybe it might have been.  But dammit, you shouldn’t have gone out there alone! I should have been there!”

           “Why?  So you could get beat up, too?”  Adam managed to get up and turned the hot water on, creating a far more comfortable temperature.  Then he started peeling out of his wet clothes.  “There was no point in letting that bastard beat on both of us, ok?”

           Dean’s jaw clenched.  “I’ll kill that son of a bitch!”

           “Dean, he’d just kill you and you know it!  You cannot protect me from everything!”

           “I should have been there,” Dean insisted. “You didn’t even tell me where you were going!  I had no idea where you were, Adam, and I gotta tell you, I was worried sick!  Then, instead of calling me afterwards, you went to a bar and got plastered.  You left me to search the town, on foot, trying to find you!”

           “I needed some time to think, ok?”

           “Oh, you thought alright!  You thought your way right into a back alley to make out with a fucking cop!  Yeah, you stupid bastard,” Dean continued, seeing the look on Adam’s face.  “That overgrown hunk you were calling ‘Big Country’ all night?  That was a cop!  And not just any cop.  That was Barakiel fucking Shelton, of Shelton and Novak, the two bastards who killed my brother!  You were making out with Adam’s murderer last night, and moaning about him in your sleep until this morning!  Now ask me how I found you?”

           Adam was leaning against the wall now.  “How did you find me?” he asked weakly.

           “Because Castiel Novak gave me a ride,” Dean declared. “And to be perfectly honest, I think the guy’s got a crush on me.”  He shrugged. “Who knows?  Could come in handy someday.”

           Adam stared at Dean for a long moment, blinking the water out of his eyes as it ran down his face.  “Dean, what happened with that FBI agent?  Because I know you too well, buddy!  All of those things you just said, all the shit I pulled last night? That was bad, but not bad enough to make you this upset.  There’s something else.  What is it?”

           Dean sat down heavily on the lid of the toilet and buried his face in his hands.  “He’s my brother.  It’s Sammy, Adam.  All grown up, and working for the FBI.  And he knew who I was.”

           Adam grew still.  “What did he say?”

           “Too much,” Dean snapped.  “It didn’t end well.”  He glared at Adam.  “My little brother, right there in my face, and it went completely to shit before I even got a chance to really talk to him!  I fucking needed you, Adam, and where were you?”

           “Fuck me!”  Adam turned off the water and climbed out, naked and dripping wet, to crouch before his friend.  “I’m sorry, Deanie.  I should have been there.  The sad part was, I knew when Crowley called me that I should have been with you, but I couldn’t tell him no.  Then I went to a bad place after he beat me.”

           “You weren’t there!” Dean accused.  “I don’t give a shit about your reasons, Adam.  I needed you, and you weren’t there!  Then when I finally found you, you were so shitfaced drunk you were making out with a murdering cop in an alley behind the bar.  Then you just sat there, chanting different mutilations of my name while I punched the cop in the face!  I’m amazed I didn’t get arrested, or at least get my ass kicked.  When Novak grabbed me, I thought sure I was getting beat.  And all you did was sit there and sing ‘The Name Game’ with my name!”

           “I fucked up!  I know it, and I’m so fucking sorry, Dean!”  Adam pulled his friend’s head closer and planted a kiss on his forehead. “I should have called you, told you what happened and where I was.  But dammit, I’m not sorry you weren’t with me with Crowley.  He’s going to make us take this job, Dean.  I already started it.”

           “Fuck, Adam!” Dean groaned.  “This is too much, and it’s too fucking close!  Your mom…”

           “First things first.  Let me get some dry clothes on, get some fucking medication for this headache, try to get some food in me, and we gotta get to work.”

           “No, dammit!  We cannot do this job, Adam, it’s way too big and right here in town!”

           “We talked about this, and we agreed to say no. And I said no.  And Crowley didn’t accept it, ok?”  He indicated his bruised face.  “Our best bet is to get this job done fast and get the hell out of town until things cool down.  Then we’ll be back on Crowley’s good side, especially if he gets to win this stupid election.”

           “This is interfering with an election,” Dean pointed out.  “That could land us with some serious time behind bars if we get caught!  And it’s right here in Elemental Falls!”  He shook his head.  “We can’t do this, Adam.  We just can’t, ok?”

           “We don’t have a choice, Dean.”  Adam’s voice was bitter.  “If we back out now, Crowley’s going to do way worse than just beat us.  And my mom, what would he do to her?”  He shook his head.  “Maybe you should go, Dean.”

           “Like hell!”

           “It’s my mom,” Adam pointed out.

           “Yes, it is, and I’m no more willing to let anything happen to her than you are,” Dean declared.  He rubbed at his face.  “I know we gotta do this, buddy.  But I have to tell you.  I don’t think we’re walking away from this one unscathed.”

           “I know,” Adam sighed.  “Believe me, buddy, I know.”

****

           “Alright, everyone put your hands in the air!” Dean bellowed as he and Adam charged through the door of the campaign headquarters. “Do exactly as we say, and no one gets hurt!”

           “Everyone up against the wall!” Adam ordered, waving his weapon at the terrified staffers.  “Face the wall, hands and foreheads against it.  And don’t fucking move!”

           Adam nodded at Dean, who nodded back, keeping his weapon trained on the staffers.  Adam moved forward, quickly sitting down at the computer on the main desk.

           Dean began moving among the staffers with a bag, collecting valuables.  Meanwhile, Adam had plugged a flash drive into the computer and was busy copying files. A moment later, he had what he needed. Pulling the flash drive, Adam got up, replaced the cap, and shoved it into his pocket.  “Alright, ladies and gentlemen, thank you very much for your cooperation.  My partner and I will be leaving now.”

           “Everyone stays exactly how they are for the next five minutes,” Dean declared.  “Then you can call the cops, the marines, your mothers, the pizza delivery man, whoever the hell you want.  But if anyone moves before we’re gone?”  Dean pointed his weapon towards the ceiling and fired, resulting in screams and sobs.

           Adam ground his teeth.  “Come on, you idiot!  Let’s get out of here!”

           The two quickly made their way out, ran around the block, and jumped into the Impala.  Dean was chuckling as he drove, but Adam was not amused.  “What the hell was that?” he exclaimed, pulling off his ski mask. “When the cops come, they’re not going to find a bullet, and they’re going to know we were using blanks!”

           “Ah, see, but that is where my true genius shines through,” Dean declared, pulling off his own mask.  “Let’s face it, buddy, we’re probably going down this time.”

           “Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, Dean!”

           “Hear me out.  I know we’ve been real careful, just like dad taught us…”

           “Dean, I am still suffering from a hangover and if I have to listen to you talk about your dad, I will throw up all over your precious Baby!”

           Dean frowned at this, but continued.  “I know we’ve been careful, but we also know that what we’re being asked to do on this job is way riskier than anything we’ve done so far, and right in our own back yard where people are going to figure out what we are.  Chances are pretty damned high that we’re going to get caught.  And if that happens?  The fact that we’re using blanks is going to say a lot of things in our favor.”

           “None of which will matter if they take us out to the falls,” Adam pointed out.  He sighed. “Good thinking, though.”

           “Thanks.  What’s next?”

           “Next, we go back to the motel,” Adam said, looking moodily out the window.  “Crowley’s going to want called with an update.  And then I’m reasonably sure he’ll have another assignment for us.”

           Dean never changed expression, but his knuckles grew white where he held to the wheel.  “If we get through this without getting killed or caught?  It’ll be a damned miracle, Adam.”

           “I know, buddy,” Adam sighed, absently rubbing at his bruised chin.  “Believe me, I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was quite entertaining, getting Mr. Fun's comments after this chapter! "What dumb stuff are they doing? What they just did here doesn’t make sense. They’re not normally so brazen, and this is just pointing a finger at Crowley!" Then, realization dawned, and he won a Golden Eyeglasses award, heehee!


	16. Following A Lead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sammy puts his genius to good use, finding a new way to track the activities of the Fat Boys. Cass has a plan to help Blake in his situation with Gwen.

            Cass assisted Blake up the stairs to his bathroom.  Then he left his friend to his own devices.  Blake would be fine after a shower.

            Heading back downstairs, Cass went to the kitchen and started the coffeemaker.  He pulled out some bread for toast and started making eggs and bacon.

            “Fancy seeing you here!” Gwen’s voice called from behind him.  “I heard Blake in the shower.  What time did you boys get in last night?”

            “Honestly, I have no idea, but it wasn’t that late,” Cass explained.  “We camped out in the living room.  How do you want your eggs?”

            “Over-easy, please.  So, you’ve been here all night?  You should have come upstairs and woke me up!”

            “Why would I do that?”  Cass skillfully cracked a couple of eggs onto his hot griddle and slapped down some strips of bacon.  But he froze when Gwen’s arms suddenly slipped around his waist.  “What are you doing?”

            “Hugging you for being so sweet!”  Gwen leaned her head against Cass’s shoulder and tightened her arms around him. “I can’t believe you’re making breakfast!”

            “Your eggs will be ready in a moment,” Cass said.  “Why don’t you let go of me and make yourself some toast?  The bread is right there.”

            “You’re always so stiff around me, Cass!”  She let go of him and moved to the toaster, much to Cass’s relief.

            Cass was even more relieved to hear Blake coming down the stairs.  “Good morning!” he called cheerfully.  “Ah, Cass, you’re an angel!”

            “Good morning, partner!  Feeling better?”

            “Much!  Aw, look at you, are you making me scrambled eggs?”  Blake moved closer and playfully pinched Cass’s cheek.  “Aren’t you just the sweetest thing?”

            “Are you certain that you’re not still intoxicated?” Cass sighed, mixing the egg mixture.  “Might I remind you that I do carry a licensed, fully loaded firearm that I would have easy justification to discharge if you pinch my cheek again?”

            “I love you too, buddy!”  Blake poured himself a cup of coffee.

            “What?” Gwen called, pouting.  “No morning kiss for your wife?”

            “I’ve got some serious morning breath,” Blake said.

            Cass, who had just been quite close to Blake, knew this was a lie.  But his partner was saved from any further explaining by a loud, insistent knock on the door.

            Blake went to answer it, and returned with an excited Agent Sam Winchester.  Not waiting for an invitation, Sammy immediately dropped his lanky frame into a chair at Blake’s kitchen table and dragged a notebook computer out of his bag.  “I got some information to share,” he announced, turning it on.  “Last night after I left you, Cass, I was up most of the night looking through the casefile.  I came up with an algorithm based on the Fat Boy’s M.O.  You two have been looking at this case all wrong, and you’ve missed a number of things that could make a real difference.”

            “Would you like some breakfast, Sammy?” Cass asked politely.

            “I’m Gwen Shelton, by the way,” Gwen offered, extending a hand.  “You must be Agent Winchester?”

            “Hello,” Sammy said absently.  “Yes, I’d love some breakfast.”  Ignoring everything but his computer screen, Sammy reached over and retrieved Gwen’s plate.  He confiscated the fork in Blake’s hand and took a bite of the eggs.  “I was able to confirm that the Fat Boys were in town as recently as yesterday.”

            “Don’t mind me,” Gwen grumbled.  “Enjoy my breakfast.”

            “Yes, thank you, it’s delicious.  Now, can you gentlemen please explain to me what your local defense lawyer has to do with the King of Hell?”

            “I am obviously not a Mensa level genius, because I am completely lost here,” Cass confessed, getting Gwen a replacement plate.

            “And I will just take my plate here, and the little lady will head out and let the big strong menfolk do their manly police business!” Gwen declared.  Taking her plate, she stormed out.

            “Well, you’ve succeeded in alienating my wife,” Blake said.  “And confusing my partner.  Truth is, you’ve confused me, too, Sammy.  How about explaining yourself?”

            Sammy took another bite and chewed, pointing at his computer.

            Blake looked.  “Ok, it’s a police report about a fire just west of Portland.  Some office building?”

            “Mmm hmm!” Sammy mumbled around a strip of bacon.  He brought up another report and again pointed at the computer.

            “Alright, arrest record.  Looks like the guy worked in the same company that owned the building that burned down.  He do it?”

            Sammy shook his head and helped himself to Blake’s coffee.  “Here is what you were doing wrong,” he explained.  “It’s all about the M.O.  When you looked at fires, you looked at one aspect of the M.O. for the Fat Boys, which was multiple points of origin.  But you missed another, far more unique factor.  Because you were only looking for multiple points of origin, you missed the fire in this office building here, which is odd because it also had that factor.  I suspect you overlooked it because two different types of accelerants were used, which isn’t typical with the Fat Boys.  Had you looked at their real M.O., this never would have gotten past you.”

            “Care to enlighten us?” Cass asked, making himself a plate and moving to join the other two men at the table.

            “You saw the obvious, and you didn’t think to look any further,” Sammy declared.  “The Fat Boys do typically have multiple points of origin in their fires, use different types of accelerants or none at all.  And until now, it was always one accelerant per fire.  But all that is just window dressing.  The real signature of the Fat Boys can be seen here.”  He brought up a picture.

            Cass looked.  “A big black scorch mark?”

            “That, my dear Mr. Novak, is a single large point of origin,” Sammy explained with obviously-strained patience.  “It’s the kind of thing you’d see with something like a Molotov cocktail when it’s thrown at the wall, this big pattern here.  Except that to create it using a Molotov, you’re creating a big burst of flame, essentially a fireball, in one place by splashing a lit accelerant on a surface.  And this, gentlemen, is the real fingerprint that the Fat Boys leave at every single arson, without fail.  One big flashpoint.  One single large point of origin.  Only thing is, and this is what makes this absolutely unique, there isn’t any accelerant used.”

            “But the Fat Boys have used accelerants,” Cass pointed out.  “You said that yourself.”

            “Yes, but the one consistent thing is this single large burn.”  Sammy traced the outline with his finger.  “And I’ve found it in several places that you overlooked.”

            “Keep bringing up us missing things,” Blake encouraged.  “It really makes you endearing!”

            This time, Sammy looked up.  “Are you hitting on me?”

            “Sure, let’s go with that.”

            “…Said the married man sitting at the table with the openly gay man,” Cass called.

            The agent eyed Cass.  Then he continued.  “Anyway, I came up with an algorithm that looks specifically for this type of origin in arson cases, and a few immediately popped up.  The most recent one was the office building I showed you the report on.  The Fat Boys hit it.”

            “Where’s the connection with the King of Hell?” Blake wanted to know.

            “As usual, there’s no concrete proof,” Sammy admitted.  “But the link is there.  This is the Fat Boys, gentlemen, no doubt about it.  They torched this office building, and made very sure to take out the server to destroy any evidence that it might have had on it to link anything back to the King of Hell.  And then they moved on to that poor sucker in the other report.  Local assets picked him up trying to flee the country.  Someone worked him over pretty well, busted his nose, messed up his profile.  He won’t say a word about who it was.  But the reason he got nabbed was that he embezzled from the company.  Like, a lot!  They managed to trace the money to the purchase of some unmarked diamonds, but the diamonds are missing and the guy won’t talk about where they disappeared to.  My theory?  That’s why the Fat Boys worked him over.  The King of Hell invested in that company and he wanted his money back, so they came after him for the diamonds.  We’ve already got a line out to see if we can’t find anyone looking to sell a large quantity of unmarked diamonds, but that’s a long shot.  Our best shot is right here in town, with Fergus Crowley.”

            “I still don’t understand what Crowley has to do with anything,” Cass confessed.

            “It’s the billboard,” Sammy declared.  “It was torched, single point of origin over a large area, no accelerant.  As we’ve just learned, that means the Fat Boys are behind it.  And that means the King of Hell ordered it.  And as the billboard in question just happened to be displaying a campaign ad for one Fergus Crowley, Fergus Crowley must therefore have some connection to the King of Hell.”  He raised his hand towards Cass.  “Cass, slap me some skin!”

            Cass blinked in confusion.  “You want me to slap you?  Physical assault on a federal agent would be…”

            “Ugh, dammit, Novak!  You are the biggest airhead I have ever met!”

            “Lay off of Cass,” Blake warned.  “He’s a bit slow sometimes, but when the chips are down, you can count on him to have your back.  Ok, so we got a connection between Crowley and the King of Hell.  Imagine that, a slimy criminal defense lawyer with a connection to an organized crime ring leader!”

            “I suggest we talk to this lawyer,” Sammy said.

            “Fine,” Blake said.  He turned to Cass.  “Cass, thank you for all you've done, both this morning and last night, but I’ve kept you long enough. You should head back and get cleaned up. I’ll walk you out.”

            “Thank you.  And don't mention it. I know you’d do the same for me.”

            “In a heartbeat, buddy.”  Blake embraced him tightly and planted a noisy kiss on his cheek.  “Come on.”

            Cass walked with his partner out to his car.  But once they were outside, Blake put his arm around his shoulders and pulled his head closer.  “Cass,” he began, “I need your help.”

            “Alright?”

            “Did you know Gwen was cheating on me?”

            Cass squeezed his eyes shut.  “Yes,” he confessed.  “I couldn't prove anything, but yes, Blake.  I knew.”

            “And you tried to tell me, didn't you?”

            “I’m sorry, Blake,” Cass said miserably.

            “Don't be.  I wasn't ready to listen,” Blake sighed.  “I was deluding myself, even had myself convinced that a baby would save our marriage when bringing a child into our mess would have been the worst thing I could have done.  But my eyes are open now.”  His hand tightened on Cass’s shoulder.  “Do you know who she's been with?”

            Cass shook his head.  “No one local.”

            “So, you do know?”

            “No.  But she's sly.  She wants the excitement of a lover without obligation.  That's why she's staying with you.  You give her security and she's not willing to give that up.  She can't get that with anyone in town.  So whoever she's been with, it's going to be a drifter.  Someone without roots she can be with without any fear of commitment.  I would guess he’s the polar opposite of you, maybe even someone with a criminal record.”

            “So I’ve been sharing my wife with a criminal?  Wonderful.  I’ll have to get tested to make sure she didn't give me whatever her punk boyfriend might be carrying.”

            “That wouldn't hurt, but like I said, she's sly,” Cass assured.  “She wouldn't do anything without protection, especially not with you two trying to have a baby.”

            “Oddly enough, that honestly makes me feel better.  But at the same time, I’m in a bind.  If I divorce her, she's going to take me for everything I’ve got.  I need a way to catch her in the act.  But how do I do that if the guy’s a drifter and a criminal?”

            Cass cringed.  “Do you trust me, Blake?”

            “Cass, to be perfectly honest, you are just about the only one I really trust anymore.”

            “Then I’ll get you what you need.”

            Blake frowned.  “How?”

            “Because there is one person in town she might make a mistake with,” Cass sighed.  “One person who isn't a criminal, who is as stable as you are.  Someone she's been interested in for some time now that she hasn't been able to get.  That may be why she's willing to take a risk to be with him, and that’s when we’ll get her.”

            “She wants someone she can't get badly enough to slip up for a chance with him?  Cass, that's perfect!  Who is it?”

            Cass hung his head.  “Me, Blake.  She wants me.  That's what I wanted to tell you the other day.  She’s been after me for a while now.”

            Blake froze.  He took his arm from Cass’s shoulders, grabbed Cass’s arms, and turned the younger man to face him.  “What are you planning, buddy?” Blake asked, giving his friend a shake.  “I was planning to get some incriminating photos, catch her in the act.  But if you’re the one she wants to be with, anything like that I got would only incriminate you!  Not to mention what you’d have to do to get them…”  He shook his head.  “What the hell are you going to do?”

            Cass didn’t look up.  “Whatever I have to do to get you out of this.”

            Blake’s face darkened.  “I won’t let you whore yourself out for me, buddy.”

            “I won't sleep with her, but up to that point, I will let her think she's getting what she wants.  That's how I’ll get you proof she's unfaithful.  Then you can insist on a fast divorce with minimal loss to you.”  Cass grimaced.  “I’m sorry.  That was insensitive.  I’m talking about the end of your marriage.”

            “Cass, my marriage ended a while ago,” Blake sighed.  “I was aware of it, but just refused to admit it.”  He shook his head.  “Look at me, buddy, ok?”  When Cass looked up, he said, “To be honest, I’m really not that broken up about it anymore.  The baby thing was my last attempt to delude myself.  Now I just want it over.”  He frowned.   “But I can't ask you to put yourself out there like this!”

            “You're not.  I’m doing this because I choose to do it, alright?  This is all on me.”

            Blake hugged him so tightly Cass’s ribs creaked in protest.  “Thank you.  I can't thank you enough!”

            “Thank me if I can pull it off,” Cass grunted, hugging him back.  “Let me deal with Gwen.  Meanwhile, let's focus on the Fat Boys.”

            “If Carson lets us,” Blake grumbled.  “He wants us to dig up dirt on our least favorite defense attorney.  But at least this sign thing gives us the perfect excuse to do it!”

            “Two birds with one stone,” Cass agreed.  “If Sammy’s right, and he probably is?”

            “You know, I think putting that smug bastard Crowley behind bars would be almost as satisfying as locking up the Fat Boys,” Blake mused.

            Cass smiled.  “Why not toss them all in together?”

            “Cass, have I mentioned recently how much I love you?”  Blake patted Cass’s cheek affectionately.  “Run home and get cleaned up.  Sammy and I will meet you at the station.”

            As Cass was pulling away, a familiar black Impala slowed and stopped at the end of Blake’s driveway.  Blake spoke for a bit with the driver while Cass watched, wary in case of trouble.  When Gwen came out, though, the Impala soon drove off.  Cass frowned.  What was that all about?  Well, Blake would tell him if it was important.

****

            Cass showered, shaved, and changed in record time.  By the time he pulled into the station, Blake and Sammy were already there.  As soon as he saw Cass, Carson herded all three into his office and slammed the door.  “What the hell is going on?” he exclaimed.  “Crowley’s already here, making all sorts of threats and wanting charges filed against me!”

            “What’s his connection to the King of Hell?” Sammy asked.

            Carson blinked in confusion.  “What?”

            It took a moment to explain, but once they did, Carson looked thoughtful.  “That is actually a hell of a good strategy,” he mused.  “And coming like it did just after his attack ad, it really paints me as a villain.  Alright.  Agent Winchester, I’m sorry, but you’ll have to continue your investigations here on your own or with another officer.  I need to pull Blake and Cass for now.”

            “For what?” Sammy exclaimed.  “To help you fight against this Crowley clown and win an election?  I want to talk to the guy anyway!  You do whatever you want, I need an interview room with him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun thinks this whole thing is going to be very, very fun, going after Crowley and setting up Gwen. Says it’s all coming to a head now and so much fun is going to happen to the right people!


	17. We Are So Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Adam realize just how much trouble they're really in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It may have appeared that I have not posted in a few days. The opposite is actually true. You see, I found the very worst thing that I could have found in anything I write - a glaring continuity error. As a result, I have gone through each and every chapter from the beginning and re-posted every single one with the error cleaned up. How did this happen? Well, I write on three devices plus pen and notebook plus bits I do on break at work and print out, and link them all together. I also skip well ahead of myself and write chapters that aren't in order, often well ahead of where I currently am posting, and may or may not even be used. When I do my final edits, I pull those all together. Unfortunately, one silly spelling error on a file name and I ended up with two copies of my drafted story. So at any given time, one copy was free of error, the other was not. And depending on which device I was on, when I pulled up my "recent works" files and clicked it open, well bottom line is that I was editing in two different places and the two places did not line up correctly. That is how I ended up with things like that horribly embarrassing post featuring a salamander suffering from hot weather, ugh! Error has since been resolved. If something doesn't make sense now, well, it's probably because this story just got a major overhaul. Sorry. Please drop me a line if you see anything that appears to be in error, I do appreciate it!

            Dean pulled Baby over to the side of the road, put her into park, and turned off the engine.  Then he simply sat, staring straight ahead through the windshield.  Next to him in the passenger seat, Adam, still bleary-eyed, did the same.

            For a long moment, neither of them spoke, but both were thinking the same thing.

            Finally, Adam voiced their thoughts.  “We,” he declared, “are so dead!”

            Why Dean had decided to pull over and talk to Blake Shelton still mystified Adam.

            They’d been out in the town, getting a few supplies, and were on their way back to the motel when Dean had spotted Shelton out in the driveway.  Adam had been flabbergasted when he’d pulled over.  “What the hell are you doing?” he hissed.

            “Giving you a chance to see your boyfriend.”

            “Dude!”

            “Adam, despite what he did to my brother, the sad fact is that you’re obviously attracted to him,” Dean pointed out.  “Besides, he’s a cop, and we really cannot afford to alienate the cops in this town.  I punched the guy in the face, and I’m going to apologize for it.”

            How Dean always seemed to know what was on Adam’s mind still mystified Adam.  Ok, so he’d been thinking about Shelton.  He’d thought about little else since he’d been rudely awakened this morning.  Of course Dean had noticed.  In retrospect, Adam supposed he’d responded to anything his friend had said primarily in grunts or one-word answers.  But Adam hadn’t even thought about hiding his thoughts.  He’d simply been going through the motions, his mind lost in memories of blue eyes, that honeyed voice, the way those damned dimples flashed when he’d laughed…

            Bobby Singer was right.  Adam would never be an actor.  His thoughts were probably written all over his face.  And no one could read Adam better than Dean.

            Before Adam could do more than sputter in protest, Dean was putting down the driver’s side window and leaning out.  “Shelton!”

            Shelton looked up in surprise.  “Winchester?”  The blue eyes darted past Dean and fixed for a moment on Adam before returning to Dean.  “I see the two of you made it back alright.  It was good of you to come for him and take him home.”

            “Yeah.  Listen, man, I wanted to apologize.  You know, for punching you in the face?  I jumped to the wrong conclusion and I’m sorry.”

            Shelton blinked, and then his face broke into a sunny smile.  He came closer, leaning on the roof of the Impala to speak with Dean.  “That’s mighty big of you, buddy,” he drawled.  “But I understood last night and I understand now.  I’m just glad Adam’s got someone like you to watch his back.”  Once more, his eyes moved to Adam.  “You ok?”

            Adam’s mouth suddenly went dry.  He’d almost forgotten just how blue those eyes really were.  “Had a hell of a hang-over,” he confessed.  “You look good, though.”

            “You look a little worse for the wear,” Shelton commented.  His eyes flicked appraisingly over Adam, and his smile grew wider.  “But you look good all the same.  Real good.”

            Adam clutched the arm rest for support.  For a moment, he found himself unable to tear his gaze away.  But then he sensed rather than saw Dean suddenly stiffen.  “Who’s that?” Dean asked.

            “Hmm?”  Shelton looked back at the lovely blonde coming up the driveway.  “Oh, that’s Gwen.  My wife.”

            “Wife?”  Adam’s heart sank to his toes.  He’d forgotten Blake was married.  Even though that night Blake’s wife had been out with another man and he’d considered his marriage all but over, Adam had still been making out behind a bar with a married cop.  _Fuck my life!_

            “Yeah.”  Blake looked almost as unhappy for a moment as Adam felt.  But then he’d pasted on his smile and turned to greet his wife.

            The blonde was certainly lovely.  Adam took a moment to admire, trying to get his mind off of his broken heart.  Dean’s expression remained pleasant, but to an experienced Dean-watcher like Adam, the way he held himself spoke volumes.  Dean was stiff, his hand tight as it gripped the steering wheel.  Well, Dean was probably upset.  After all, he’d been perfectly aware that Adam had been falling hard for this damned cheating son of a bitch cop, and had actually been deluding himself that Blake – _Shelton, dammit, not Blake!_ – Shelton felt something for him in return.  Despite everything, despite the fact that Blake was a) a cop b) a murderer and therefore c) an archenemy, Adam hadn’t felt like this about anyone before.  Not even Behati had gotten into his head this way, filled his thoughts and his heart until he thought he’d burst…

            Wait.  Dean wasn’t upset.  Adam glanced at his friend, taking in the sheen of sweat on his lip, the slight paleness to his cheeks, and the whiteness of his knuckles as he gripped the steering wheel.  Dean was a hell of an actor.  His expression never changed.  But Adam knew the truth.

            Dean wasn’t upset.  Dean was _scared_.

            “I’ll leave you two lovebirds be, then,” Dean was saying.  “Just wanted to apologize.”

            “Sure, buddy.  Nothing to apologize for.”  Shelton looked as mystified as Adam felt.

            “Thanks.  Have a good day.”  Dean’s smile became even more forced as he nodded at the blonde.  “Mrs. Shelton.”

            “Hi,” she said.  She sounded nervous and her wave was just a bit too fast.

            Adam frowned in confusion.  Then he looked again at the blonde.  Why did she seem so familiar?

            And then all at once he knew.  He knew her.  He knew her in the Biblical sense.  It’s just that the last time he’d seen her, she hadn’t been wearing any clothing.

            Now he and Dean were sitting here at the side of the road, thinking about the cop and his lovely wife.

            “Dude?” Dean said.  “We fucked a cop’s wife.”

            “He’s going to kill us,” Adam moaned.

            “We played ‘Meet Me In The Middle’ with a cop’s wife!”

            “It’s not just going to be him,” Adam predicted.  “You know how cops are.  They’re like a bees’ nest.  Stir one up, and they all start stinging!  Every cop in Elemental Falls is going to want a piece of us!”

            “We double penetrated a cop’s wife!”  Dean appeared dazed.

            “We’re already taking a risk in this damned town!” Adam exclaimed.  “We’re interfering with an election.  That could get us real time, even federal time!  The fucking FBI is already here.  What if they turn us over to the feds, Dean?  We could get sent to Gitmo and waterboarded, or never seen or heard from again?”

            “I gave a pearl necklace to a cop’s wife!”

            “Dean, would you fucking focus for a moment?”

            Dean’s eyes and mind were miles from his current position.  “Dude, you handcuffed a cop’s wife to a motel bed and fucked her, and I sprayed my jizz all over her…”

            _“Dean!”_

            “Well, now I know where she got the handcuffs, anyway.  Damn, that cop’s got good taste, she’s one hell of a lay!”

            Adam reached over and smacked Dean sharply in the back of the head.  “Yes, Dean, we had a night that could only be described as graphically pornographic with a hot sexy kinky blonde, but that blonde happens to be married to a cop!”

            “You mean the cop that you were apparently making out with before I showed up and punched him in the face, thinking he was beating you up because you didn’t bother to call me?” Dean snapped, rubbing the back of his head.  “That cop, Adam?”

            Adam narrowed his eyes.  “Oh, you bastard, don’t you dare try to turn this around on me!”

            “Why not?” Dean challenged.  “You already did the wife, and if I hadn’t shown up, you probably would have done the husband, too!  Maybe all three of you could have…”

            “Fuck you!” Adam roared, shoving at his friend.  “This is all your fault!”

            “My fault?  How the hell is it my fault?”

            “Because you’re a fucking slut, Dean!  You have a girl in every town, and none of them mean anything to you!  You were in our room banging this one right behind me, and I wasn’t even interested until you talked me into a threesome!”

            “Dammit, you needed it, Adam!  You were so down in the dumps since Behati, you needed that distraction and you know it!  I didn’t know she was married!  I certainly didn’t know she was married to a damned cop!  Besides, I didn’t force you into that bar, force alcohol down your throat, or shove you at Shelton, did I?”

            “Ok, I’ll take responsibility for my part of it,” Adam said.  “But I was tanked by the time he caught my attention, ok?  I knew his name was familiar, but I didn’t make the connection until you reminded me!”

            “And even now, when you know exactly who he is, you’re still mooning after him,” Dean pointed out.  “Look at you!  I may have a lover in every city, but at least I’m not over the moon for a married, murdering cop!”

            “So what if I am?” Adam grumbled.  “Doesn’t matter.  You’ve been fucking his wife every time we’ve been in this town for how long now?  And you spit on the other cop!  I’m still pissed at you about that!”

            “He tripped me!”

            “Sure, after you spit on him!”

            “You still shouldn’t have gone to Hell by yourself.”

            “And then you had to compound things yet again by pulling over and talking to Shelton?  Dean, what the hell were you thinking?  He was nearly as shitfaced as I was when we left last night.  If you’d left him the hell alone it’s possible he might not have even remembered anything!  But you had to get in his face again, and now we’re right back on his radar.  What are we going to do if he figures this out, Dean?”

            “Adam, did you not see the way that bastard was looking at you?” Dean exclaimed.  “If I hadn’t been here and his damned wife hadn’t come out, he might have climbed right into this car and fucked you in the seat!”  He paused, staring incredulously at Adam.  “And you would have let him do it!”

            Adam blushed.  “He’s obviously interested, but he wasn’t…”

            “Oh, really?  The way you were moaning and calling for him last night, he was doing a bit more in that alley than complimenting you, Adam!”

            Adam squirmed.  “Ok!  He wanted me last night, and he seems interested today.  But he was hardly looking at me like you’re trying to make it seem.  There’s probably a reason he’s still with his wife.”

            “Yeah, it’s called a ‘beard,’ Adam,” Dean grumbled.  “He was apparently all over you last night!”

            “He was smashed last night, alright?  What’s our excuse with his wife, Dean?  Yeah, he was squeezing my ass and shoving his tongue down my throat when he was drunk, but we were all three sober when we had our fun with his wife!  And you’ve been hitting that for a while now!”

            Dean grimaced.  “Ok, I see your point.”

            “He’s going to skin you alive, Dean!  He’s going to skin us both!  All because you’re too afraid of commitment to settle down with any one person, so you sleep around everywhere you go!  This whole mess happened because you can’t keep it in your pants!”

            Dean slumped.  “That’s not fair, Adam.  You know damned well why I’m afraid of commitment.”

            “Not everyone is going to abandon you, Dean.”  Adam suddenly found he couldn’t be angry anymore.  “I never have, and I never will.”

            “You’re the only one.”  Dean got out of the car, walked around to Adam’s side, and put out the flaming undergrowth next to the road.  Adam hadn’t even realized he’d set it on fire.

            When Dean got back into the car, the two sat for a moment longer in silence.  “What are we going to do now, Adam?” Dean asked quietly.

            “Go back to the motel, pack our shit, and lie low for as long as we can,” Adam announced.  “Preferably somewhere out of town.  And Dean?”

            “Yeah?”

            “I’m driving us out of town.”

            Dean opened his mouth to protest, but Adam’s hazel eyes were staring angrily out the windshield.  He sighed.  “Fine.  But you put one scratch on my Baby, and I’ll have your ass!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun won the **Gold Star** for figuring out who that blonde Dean and Adam were with really was! says "I’m smart because I figured out that the blonde they were banging was Gwen." Thought the boys panicking was hilarious


	18. A Little Chat Among Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam interviews Crowley, and learns far more than he'd bargained for

            As Sam approached the interview room, he tried hard to control his excitement.  Did any of the locals suspect that this would be his first interview?  Probably not.  That Cass Novak was an airhead if there ever was one and probably wouldn’t notice anything short of a flashing sign.  Blake Shelton was a little more observant, but he was so slow on the uptake he probably wouldn’t notice either.  Chief Daly was a wild card.  But in the end, it didn’t matter.  Sam was about to conduct his first solo suspect interview.  And he’d certainly set the bar high to start with a lawyer with potential links to organized crime, hadn’t he?  Sam couldn’t wait to get started.

            He hesitated outside the door for a moment to compose himself and put his serious face on.  It wouldn’t do to go in there with his excitement all over his face.  He was an FBI agent.  This scum would be intimidated enough.  All Sam had to do was wear him down, poke holes in his lies, and get him to tell the truth about his relations with organized crime and the King of Hell.  Who knows?  Maybe this one interview would be the key to unlocking an entire crime ring! 

            Sam lifted up the file folder he’d put together and pretended to be glancing through it as he entered the room.  He paid no attention to the man inside.  Instead he sat down at the table, keeping his expression serious and a slight frown on his face as he leafed through the contents of the file.  It was a tactic designed to reduce a suspect’s confidence.  The interviewer was more interested in the paperwork than the person.  Now to further intimidate the suspect by announcing he was a federal agent.  “Mr. Fergus Crowley?” he began.  “I’m…”

            “Tea, please, Earl Grey with milk and one sugar,” the man interrupted.  “Oh, and a donut if you would.”

            That made Sam glance up.  Fergus Crowley was a handsome dark-haired man with dark eyes.  He was dressed immaculately in a black suit.  He wasn’t wearing a tie, but he did have a gold pin in the shape of a dragon, curled around a polished piece of obsidian.  Currently, he was all but ignoring Sam as he fiddled with his cell phone.  Sam raised an eyebrow.  Was this backwater criminal defense lawyer using the same tactic on him he’d used on Crowley when he entered?  In the back of his mind, Sam noted it was effective.  It was certainly unnerving, and then the way Crowley had dismissed him without letting him even finish his sentence?  And had he really just given him a lunch order?

            Never mind.  Keep cool.  Sam cleared his throat and started again.  “I think you’re mistaking me for someone else.  I…”

            Crowley looked up in annoyance.  “Don’t tell me that a police station doesn’t have any bloody donuts!  That fat bastard at the front desk is sure to have some.  Go and ask him, there’s a mate.”

            “Mr. Crowley, I’m Agent Sam Winchester of the FBI,” Sam explained.

            “Oh really?  And does that mean you’ve no idea how to get donuts?”

            Sam was starting to get annoyed.  “I’m not here to get you donuts, Mr. Crowley.  I’m here to talk about the King of Hell.”

             Crowley cocked an eyebrow.  “…Satan?”

            Sam slapped the file on the table.  Time to get tough.  “I am not here to play games with you, Mr. Crowley!  This is a serious investigation!”

            Crowley rolled his eyes.  “Of course it is.  What did you say your name was again?”

            “Agent Sam Winchester.”

            “Sam Winchester?”  Crowley brightened.  “Your parents wouldn’t happen to be John and Mary Winchester, would they?”

            Sam blinked.  “Why do you ask?”

            “Ah yes, that was a real tragedy.”

            “The car accident?”

            Crowley frowned in confusion.  “What car accident?”

            “The one that killed my father and brother.”  _Because Dean Winchester can’t be my brother.  My mother wouldn’t have lied to me like that!_

            Crowley looked at him strangely.  “Young man, I have made it my mission to learn the families of all the salamanders in this town.  The name Winchester is quite familiar to me.  I knew your father, and I know your brother.  And neither of them died in any car accident!”

            Sam felt color rise in his cheeks.  “I’m aware that there’s another family here named Winchester, but…  Wait, did you say salamanders?” 

            “Yes, salamanders.  Fire elementals.”

            Sam groaned.  “Wow.  I could understand a couple of cops believing that crap, but you’re a lawyer!  You’re an educated man!  How could you possibly believe that…” 

            Crowley smirked at him and held out his hand.  Before Sam’s eyes, a flame burst from the man’s palm.  “I know the families of all the salamanders because I happen to be one of them,” he explained. 

            Sam stared in disbelief.  “This is no time for magician’s tricks!”

            “Magician’s tricks?”  Crowley closed his hand, making the flame vanish.  “I’m a salamander!  I’m a man of flesh and blood like yourself, with most of the same weaknesses flesh entails.  But within me dwells a spirit of fire.  It lets me control that fire.  Surely, investigating in this town, you’ve learned something about the elementals!  If not, I recommend you go and see a man named Bobby Singer.  He literally wrote the book.” 

            “This is insane!”

            “And yet, here I am, seated before you.”  Crowley opened his hand and produced the flame again, letting it dance over his fingers.

            Irritated, Sam reached for the flame.  He quickly drew his hand back, hissing in pain.  Then he stared in shock at the blister on his finger.  “It’s real!  That’s really fire!”

            “Of course it’s really fire, you idiot!  What did you think would happen when you stuck your hand into it?  I’m a salamander, just as your father was!”

             “You,” Sam snarled, “know nothing about my father!”

            “On the contrary!” Crowley retorted.  “I knew your father very well.  I represented him several times, and now I represent your brother Dean.  Who told you they died in a car crash?  Was it your mum, Sam?  She never did handle what your father was all that well.  Shame about the divorce.  What your father did afterwards, stealing his oldest son like that?  It was terrible, but to be perfectly honest, had it been my firstborn, I can’t say I might not have done the same.”

            Sam felt cold.  “What do you mean, stealing his oldest son?”

            “That’s what he did!  Sam, your father kidnapped your brother Dean after your mum won custody of you both,” Crowley explained patiently.  “You’re in the FBI!  Didn’t you look that up?  A simple check would have easily disproven the car crash and told you…  Aaaah!”  Crowley leaned back, taking in the expression on Sam’s face and nodding.  “You never looked too much into that car accident story, did you, my lad?  Because you knew, didn’t you?  Part of you knew that it wasn’t true!” 

            “Shut up.”

            “Elementals pass their powers to their firstborn child,” Crowley stressed.  “John knew that Dean would become a salamander!  Salamanders, we’re all hot heads, with bad tempers who are quick to get into fights.  Divorce is common, and we often end up on the wrong side of the law.  But we do have one good trait – we stick together.  We stand with and for our own, and there was no way John was going to let Dean go.  And so, when he lost legal custody of the boy, he did what he had to do, I suppose.  But your mum took a risk, lying to you like that.  I suppose she was trying to protect you, but you’ve got elemental blood!  You could still have turned out to be a salamander once you grew up, just like Adam Milligan did!  To tell you that your father and your brother were dead…!” 

            “Shut up!” Sam yelled, pounding a fist on the table.  “We’re not here to talk about me!”

            “It doesn’t seem like anyone was ever there to talk about you,” Crowley noted, shaking his head.  “I’m sorry you’ve been lied to.  I wish I’d known.  I would have come to you when you were old enough, told you everything!” 

            “Out of the goodness of your heart?” Sam spat.

            “I told you.  Salamanders stick together!  And you have salamander blood in your veins!”  He made the flame appear on his palm again.  “The same fire burned in your father, and now it burns inside your brother.  Although you and Dean don’t look much alike.  Same eyes, that’s about it.  Just how tall are you, anyway?” 

            “I’m 6’4,” Sam replied, not knowing what to think anymore.

            Crowley gave a whistle, impressed.  “What did your mum feed you?  Your brother’s just over six feet, but the two of you must look like Rocky and Bullwinkle standing next to each other!”

            “What the hell…?  Would you please get off of me and my family?  I’m here to talk with you about the King of Hell!” Sam exclaimed.  “I know that his operatives are here in town.  And I know that he is, too!”

            “Oh really?  What makes you say that?”

            “Because we finally got one of his thugs to talk, that’s why,” Sam announced smugly.  He was delighted, and a bit relieved, to realize he’d finally rattled this smug bastard.  “And he’s singing like a bird!  We already knew that the King of Hell wasn’t really headquartered in Portland, and we finally got our informant to name this town.  The King of Hell is here, and you’re connected to him!”

            Crowley folded his hands on the table.  “I’d be delighted to learn exactly how you came up with that?”

            “Your campaign sign.  Burning it down was the work of the King of Hell’s top operatives, the Fat Boys.  And the Fat Boys only go after people who have pissed off the King of Hell.  You’re in trouble, Crowley.”  Sam leaned forward.  “I can help you.  Turn state’s evidence, and I’ll make sure you’re protected.” 

            Crowley chuckled.  “I haven’t the faintest idea of what you speak.” 

            “Dammit, Crowley, you’re in danger here!”

            “I,” Crowley declared, “am a salamander!  We protect our own, to far greater effect than you could!”

            “Is that what you told Adam Milligan?”

            Crowley’s eyes suddenly grew hard.  “Adam Milligan wasn’t your father’s firstborn son.  Had we known he was a salamander, of course we would have protected him!  We’d have taken him in, taught him how to use his powers.  But we didn’t know, and you obviously know what happened.  That is precisely the reason that your father took your brother Dean, Sam!  To prevent precisely what happened to Adam Milligan from happening to him.”  He looked at Sam, and his eyes softened.  “You should join us, Moose.  You’ve got salamander blood.  Someday, your child could be a salamander, too.  That child should be here, with his family.  His _true_ family!” 

            “You need to stop talking about my family and start talking about the King of Hell!” Sam exclaimed.  “I don’t think you understand.  You are in real danger here!”

            But Crowley only laughed.  “If I were in any danger, my salamander family would be all the protection I need.”

            “You said you have a human body,” Sam pointed out.  “You can be killed!  Adam Milligan is proof enough of that!”

            “What Milligan is proof of is that we can’t trust authorities,” Crowley declared.  “Not the local police force, and certainly not the FBI!  No, I’m afraid this conversation is over.” 

            “But…!”

            Crowley was getting to his feet.  He reached into a pocket and produced a card which he handed to Sam.  “If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to call,” he said.  “You may not be one of us, but you’re still entitled to the help and protection we can offer.”

            “Thanks,” Sam said, taking the card and offering one of his own.  “And if you need help, if the King of Hell does come after you?  The offer stands.”

            Crowley nodded, accepted the card, and saw himself out.

            Sam stayed where he was for a bit longer, processing his thoughts.  Then he pulled out his phone and dialed his mother.

            “Mom?” he began when she answered.  “I need you to tell me what really happened to dad and Dean.”

            “Sammy, they died in…”

             “Don’t, mom!  Don’t lie and tell me they died in a car crash, not again!” Sam exclaimed.  “Because I’ve met him, mom.  I’ve met Dean!  Did dad kidnap him?  Did my father take my brother away?”

            Silence.  And then his mother started to cry.  “You were just a baby!  John took Deanie, and I was terrified he’d come back and take you, too!  He was a hired thug, Sammy, not a mechanic like I told you.  And this ‘Business’ they were in?  I took you and I went to live with your aunt in New Hampshire, and we agreed that it was best we didn’t tell you.”

            “But what about Dean?” Sam exclaimed.  “How could you just let dad have him?  Why didn’t you try to find him?”

            “Because your father was a criminal, Sammy!  If I looked for him, he’d find us!  He never met your aunt.  I knew we’d be safe there.”

            “So you left Dean with him.  And now he’s a criminal, too!”  Sam breathed hard through his nose.  “Why didn’t dad take me, too?  Why just Dean?”

            “Sammy, I don’t know what he was thinking!  He kicked the door to the house in and grabbed Deanie, pushed me down when I tried to stop him, and took off.  You were just little, Sammy.  I don’t know why…”

            “It was because only the firstborn is known to inherit the salamander ability, wasn’t it?”

             Silence on the phone.  And that told Sam all he needed to know.  “You should have told me, mom,” he said.  “If I have a kid now, there’s a chance that kid could be a salamander too, isn’t there?  Don’t you think I deserve to know that, to be prepared in case it happens?”

            “Sam…”

            “Dammit, mom!”  Sam closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.  “Look, at some point, we need to sit down and have a long talk.  By the way, your son Dean is fine, even though he’s a criminal.  He’s here in town.  Thanks for asking about him.” 

            “Sammy!”

            Sam hung up.

            For a long moment, he leaned on the table, focusing on his breathing, trying to regain control.  Alright, so Dean was here, in town.  Sam had no doubt that Dean already knew who he was, what their relationship to each other was.  But that couldn’t be Sam’s primary focus now.  He’d try to find a way to reach Dean after he dealt with the King of Hell. 

            For that, he needed local assets.

            His mind made up, Sam gathered up his things and went out to find Shelton and Novak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun says he was impressed that Crowley admitted to being a salamander. Couldn’t believe he flat-out told him. He didn’t sugarcoat anything and now Sam has firm confirmation of what really happened to his brother.


	19. I'll Fly Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake, Cass, and Sam realize something about the Fat Boys. Adam drives Baby, while Dean criticizes his driving.

            “You know what I can’t figure out?” Sam was saying as he rode in the finally-dry passenger seat of Blake and Cass’s squad car.  “How are these Fat Boys getting around and no one is seeing them?”

            The three were on their way to Crowley’s office, where Blake and Cass were about to try their luck in interviewing him.  It had been difficult for Sam to swallow his pride and ask them for help.  But in the end, his pride needed to take a back seat.  The only thing that mattered was finding the King of Hell, and right now, Fergus Crowley was his best hope. 

            “What do you mean?” Blake asked.

            “Well, take this town, for instance,” Sam explained.  “We know they always come back here, and now we know it’s because the King of Hell actually operates out of this town.  But you’d think that would make them easy to find, right?  Logic dictates that all we should have to do is check out drifters that are only seen in town when the Fat Boys aren’t in action, or when they’re known to be committing criminal acts here in the town.”

            “But I checked into that already,” Blake explained.  “You’re welcome to check it again, Sammy, especially since your algorithm gave us more crimes to look at.  But drifters get noticed in a town this size.  Even those two we’re watching for evidence of rogue salamander activity aren’t really drifters.  They travel a lot for whatever work they do, but they’re back at least every month because their families are local.”

            “And their extended families,” Cass added.  “Milligan, for example.  By the way, they’re both salamanders, Blake.”

            Blake looked at him in the rearview mirror, his eyebrows raising in surprise.  “That so?  How do you figure?”

            “Adam Levine was the firstborn son of Roman Levine, who was John Winchester’s partner in crime,” Cass explained.  “John kidnapped both of the boys.  Only thing that makes sense is if they’re both salamanders.”

            “Huh!  Guess I lied to Carson then.  He asked me which one it was and I told him it was Winchester.”

            “Can we please not talk about them anymore?” Sam asked irritably.

            “Sorry,” Cass apologized.  “We were talking about how drifters would get noticed in this town.”

            “But see, that’s what I mean.  How is it that no ever sees these Fat Boys?” Sam complained.  “It’s like they’re hiding in plain sight!”

            “You’re right, that is kind of strange,” Blake agreed.  “I suppose, if I was them, I’d rent or borrow or steal different cars for each job, so no one could put them together.  And they’re always real careful not to leave any tire impressions or anything that could help us identify a vehicle.” 

            “Well, that right there disputes what you’re saying, Blake,” Cass said.  “The fact that they’re always careful not to leave any tire impressions or anything that could help identify their vehicle indicates that they’re using the same vehicle, not a different one!”

            Sam blinked in surprise, staring back at Cass.  Blake chuckled.  “You thought he was just a pretty face, didn’t you?  Some airhead who got his promotion based entirely on his good looks?  Trust me, you’re not the first!  People underestimate him all the time until he looks over things that puzzle everyone else and pulls them together just as neat as you please.  That’s what Cass does, Sammy!  I’ve never met a better detective when it comes to putting things like that together.”

            “Alright, then keep going,” Sam encouraged, looking at Cass with new respect.  “If they’re always driving the same vehicle, then it makes the fact that no one has ever reported seeing them even stranger, doesn’t it?  It must be a really nondescript vehicle, something that blends in…”

             “No,” Cass said, shaking his head as he gazed out the window in thought.  “I think the opposite is true.  They use that car for more than transportation.  It’s part of their cover!  They park it somewhere close by and it distracts people.  Everyone is seeing this car, but that’s the thing.  They’re so intent on the car that they’re not noticing the people in it!  This car is something flashy, a low-rider, maybe, or a well-restored classic that’s so shiny and well-maintained that…”

            Cass let his voice trail off as all three men in the car turned their heads to watch the glossy, shining black 1967 Impala passing on the opposite side of the street.  Chrome gleamed in the sun as loud classic rock music blared from within it.

            Blake calmly pulled into the parking lot of a home improvement store and reached past Sam, going for the glove box.  Sam startled at the long arm reaching past his groin as Cass jumped out of the back seat.  “Whoa!  What are you doing?”

            “We got protocols, Cass and I,” Blake explained, opening the glove box and pressing the button to pop the trunk.  “Grab that iPod out of there, would you, and the cable?  Thanks.”

            “What the hell are you two doing?” Sam exclaimed, watching as Blake plugged in the iPod while Cass rummaged in the trunk.  “You should be pursuing those two suspects to bring in for questioning!”

            “We’re Carson’s Angels, and we’re about to engage in a chase,” Blake said absently as he fumbled with the iPod.  “We have a certain way that we go about that.”

            Sam watched in disbelief as Cass slammed the trunk shut, ran around to the front of the car, and affixed something to the hood with a powerful magnet.  “…What the actual fuck is that?”

            “Something the local scouts made for us,” Blake replied.  He was using a cable to connect the iPod to the vehicle’s siren.  “We call it ‘The Flapper!’  We use it in all our chases if we can, and it always helps us catch the bad guys.”

            “You have got to be kidding me!”

            “Nope!” Blake handed Sam the iPod as Cass jumped back into the cruiser.  “It’s all set up to go.  Usually Cass handles this but since you’re in his seat, looks like you get the honors Sammy!”

            “As soon as Blake hits the sirens and gives you the word, just press ‘Play,’” Cass instructed.

            Sam looked helplessly from one detective to the other as Blake pulled out of the parking lot and started after the Impala.  “You two are insane,” he declared.  “I mean, you are seriously certifiable!  You’ve both already done a lot of crazy shit, but this is the worst yet!  Do you actually know just how completely and utterly nuts you really are?”

            “Yup!”  Blake flicked the switch for the lights and sirens.  They immediately started up and cars started pulling over ahead of them, clearing the way to the Impala.  “Alright, Sammy, now!”

            “Start the music!” Cass encouraged excitedly.

            With a sigh that was half groan, Sam pressed play.  And immediately, the sound of the sirens stopped, replaced with loud gospel music.

****

            Dean appeared to be slightly ill.  He clung to the door with his right hand and the seat with his left.  “Slow down, dammit!” he pleaded.  “You’re taking these curves way too fast!”

            “Dean, would you please stop constantly criticizing my driving?” Adam asked, happily taking another turn without slowing.  “I have driven this car before and haven’t wrecked yet!”

            “I cannot believe I let you talk me into this!” Dean moaned, still clinging for dear life.  “I never should have given in!  I swear, if you wreck or Baby gets so much as a single scratch…!”

            Adam rolled his eyes.  “You know, if you put as much time and effort into the job as you do into this damned stupid car…?”

            “What did I tell you about talking shit about my Baby, Adam?  Especially while you’re driving her!”

            “For heaven’s sake!” Adam exclaimed.  “You’re ridiculous, Dean!  I even let you choose the music instead of telling you to shut your cakehole!  What the hell do you want?”

            “For you to go slower around these turns!”

            “Dammit, Dean, you don’t drive like an old lady when you’re behind the wheel,” Adam pointed out.  “If anything, you drive like a bat out of hell!”

            “Yes, but I know my Baby!” Dean insisted.  “I know how she feels, and I know what she can handle.  You don’t!  You take those turns too fast and she’s gonna fishtail, and then…!”

            “Ok, that’s it!” Adam declared.  “I’m still feeling the lingering effects of that wonderful hangover, we still have to deal with the fact we fucked a cop’s wife, Crowley texted us to get out of town which means there’s already trouble, and I just do not have the patience for this ‘Baby’ shit right now!  Sit there and shut the hell up until we cross the state line!”

            “We’d get there a hell of a lot faster if you’d let me drive.”

            “Make up your mind, dammit!  Do you want to get out of this damned town quickly, or do you want me to putz around these turns like an old lady?”

            “I want you to treat my Baby the way you treat your dick!”

            “You mean shove it up your ass?  Can do!”

            “You need to handle her like she’s a delicate, precious, and easily breakable thing,” Dean explained.  “Because if she gets so much as a scratch, it’s going to be my foot up _your_ ass!”

            “How about I shove your head up my ass, Dean?”

            “How about you watch the damned road?  You’re way too close to this asshole in front of you!”

            “Who do you…?”

            That was when they heard the siren.  Both men looked back, seeing the flashing lights of an approaching cruiser.  “What the…?  I sure as hell wasn’t speeding!” Adam exclaimed.

            “Dude, what the hell is that thing on the hood?”

            Adam looked back in the rearview mirror.  Sure enough, something was moving on the hood of the approaching police cruiser.  It appeared to be a wooden figurine of a man dressed as a cop, attached to a magnet on the hood.  The figurine had a pair of wings attached to its back.  At the front of the figurine was a small windmill.  As the windmill turned, it activated the mechanism attached to the wings, causing them to flap.  The figure flapped cheerfully closer as the cruiser approached.  And then, as Adam blinked in disbelief, the siren cut out, replaced by the loud, bouncy sound of a piano intro.

            _“Some glad morning when this life is o’er I’ll fly away!  To a home on God’s celestial shore!  I’ll fly away!”_

            Adam already had a headache.  The stress of the last few days had been eating him up inside.  Getting drunk hadn’t helped, especially finding out he’d been making out with the married cop who had killed Dean’s brother.  His hangover this morning had been record-setting, and Dean’s constant nagging about his driving was only making it worse.  Now this was the last straw.  Adam felt something inside of himself snap.  “Nuh uh,” he declared.  “No way.  No fucking way am I getting pulled over when I wasn’t speeding or anything by a cop car with a flapping angel on the hood playing gospel music over the siren speakers!”  His foot pressed on the gas.

            “What the fuck are you doing?!” Dean yelled.  “Dude, pull over!”

            “Fuck that!  You’re always talking about how fucking awesome this fucking piece of shit car is, Dean?  It’s time to put your money where your mouth is!”

            “Adam, what the fuck?!  Pull over!”

            Adam’s only response was to press down on the accelerator.

 

            Blake cocked an eyebrow, meeting his partner’s amused blue eyes in the rearview mirror.  “Cass?” he called.  “Are these assholes running?”

            “They do appear to be running, yes.”

            “Think they’ll get away from us?”

            Cass grinned.  “No, Blake.  I do not.”

            Blake grinned back and stepped on the gas.

            Sam, wide-eyed, clung to the door and his seat.  “Um, is this the time to tell you that this is my very first high-speed car chase?”

            “Just relax,” Cass advised settling back into his seat.  “Blake here races cars on the weekends in the fall as a hobby.  He’s the county champion!”

 

            “I’m sorry!” Dean wailed.  “I’m sorry that I was backseat driving from the passenger seat!  Just pull the fuck over!  And calm down!  You almost set the upholstery on fire!”

            “I am so _done_ with this shit!” Adam roared.  “These cops aren’t getting me, not today!  Dean, what the hell is wrong with this stupid car?  You spend most of your time and half of our money tinkering with the damned thing, so where’s the fucking ‘Go’ button?  This cop is driving like a maniac, and he’s catching up!”

            “That’s because you don’t know how to fucking drive her!” Dean yelled back, finally losing his temper.  “You don’t know how the gas pedal’s a little bent!  If you want it all the way down, you gotta push your foot on the top of it, you stupid fuck!”

            Adam stomped hard on the top of the gas pedal, the engine roared, and the Impala shot forward.  Adam whooped.  “Nice!  Now let’s see what this bitch can really do!”

 

            “Damn, that is one souped-up princess,” Blake observed, watching as the Impala pulled away from them.  “Not much that can beat a well-maintained cop car, but that baby’s doing it!”

            Cass had taken the radio and was busy relaying the details of the chase.  He paused for a moment, glancing ahead at the fleeing car.  “We’ve got a roadblock in place on Weaver Street,” he announced.  “These two fuckers aren’t going anywhere.”  He paused.  “Unless they do a Dukes, that is.”

            “Dukes?” Sam asked fearfully.  “What the hell is a Dukes?”

            “Something that, if they love that car as much as they have to in order to keep it in that kind of condition?” Blake said.  “These two bastards would never even think to try!”

 

            “Oh, shit!” Adam swore, looking with dismay at the police cruiser that had parked neatly across the road, blocking the street.

            “Well, that’s that,” Dean sighed.  “Now we’re really in the shit!  Along with whatever they were going to pull us over for in the first place, now they’ve also got us for running!  Crowley’s going to lose his shit.  Thanks a whole fucking lot, Adam!  We’re going to…  Whoa, what the _fuck?!”_

            Adam had just thrown the Impala into a hard left turn, fishtailing wildly with tires squealing as he dashed off on the new vector up a small, overgrown dirt road.

            _“Adam what the fuck are you doing?”_ Dean screamed.  “You gotta stop!  You _know_ this road’s been closed for years after the bridge washed out!  That happened back when we were kids, remember?”

            “Yeah, I remember,” Adam growled, picking up speed as they bounced along the ruined road.  “And you know what else I remember, Dean?  I remember how we used to come up here on our bikes, and…”

            Dean’s face went stark white.  “Don’t you dare!  Adam, don’t you fucking _dare!”_

            Adam saw the steep rise that had once led to the bridge and stomped on the gas.  The Impala zoomed forward, hit the rise like a ramp, and then roared over the gap behind it.  Baby sailed neatly through the air and hit the other side of the gap with a crash and a scraping of the undercarriage.

            Dean screamed as though mortally wounded.  _“I will kill you!  As soon as we get out of this, I will fucking kill you, Adam!”_

            Adam was roaring with laughter, gleefully pounding his hand on the steering wheel.  “Come on, Dean!  You’re always saying everything’s awesome.  Now _that_ was awesome!”

            Dean moaned, wincing at the squeaking sound coming from the battered suspension.  “Oh, Baby, what is this asshole doing to you?” he whimpered.  “Don’t worry, I’ll fix you up good as new and he will never, ever, _ever_ drive you again!”

 

            “Ok, that was fairly impressive,” Sam noted, watching the Impala clear the gap ahead of them.  “Now what are we…?”  He went silent, staring in horror as Blake stomped on the gas.  “You’re surely not planning to _follow them?!”_

            “Don’t call me Shirley, Sammy!” Blake declared.  “It’s Dukes of Hazard time!  Here we go!”  He let loose with a wild rebel yell as the cruiser hit the ramp and was suddenly airborne.

            Sam’s life flashed before his eyes.  He strained to keep from losing control of his bowels and bladder, holding on with white knuckles as he watched The Flapper gamely trying to fly the heavy cruiser through the air.  But despite the best efforts of the mechanical angel cop, the ground rushed up to meet them.  They met it with a thud that made Sam’s teeth click painfully together, even as the two lunatics he’d been saddled with cheered and laughed.  And meanwhile, the Statler Brothers continued their cheerful four-part harmony while The Flapper flew on.

 

            “They followed us!” Dean pointed out.  “You ruined Baby’s suspension for nothing, you prick!  They still followed us!”

            “Ok, I’ll admit I didn’t expect that,” Adam confessed.  “This cop is ridiculous!  What the hell does he want us for, anyway?”

            “If you’d have pulled over when I told you, you’d have found out!” Dean snapped irritably.

            “Whatever, they’ll never catch us now, not if your precious Baby’s all you make her out to be.”

 

            “Well, you almost killed all three of us, and they’re getting away again!” Sam pointed out.  “If I remember the map correctly, once they cross the reservoir bridge up ahead, they’ve got an open shot to the interstate.  Then they’re gone!  So what’s your great plan now, huh, Shelton?”

            Blake met Cass’s eyes in the rearview mirror.  “Cannonball?”

            “Cannonball,” Cass agreed.

            “Oh fuck me,” Sam groaned.  “Now what are you idiots planning to do?  What’s…?”  Sam clutched at the seat and armrest again as Blake suddenly gunned it.  “What the fuck are you _doing?”_

            “You’re probably not old enough to remember Cannonball Run, are you, Sammy?” Blake asked, his eyes fixed ahead of him.

            “Great movie,” Cass called.  “I highly recommend you watch it!”

 

            Adam hit the bridge and started to relax.  “Dean, I never thought I’d say this, but I’m actually glad you put so much time, effort, and money into this damned car,” he said cheerfully.  “It’s really saving our…”

            He broke off, staring in disbelief as the cop car once again ramped over a steep rise, this time arcing out over the reservoir.  Impossibly, the car hit the still surface of the water and _skipped,_ bouncing like a skipping stone twice across the water to charge up the bank on the other side.

            And now they were ahead of them, sliding sideways to block the road.  Adam stomped on the brakes, jerked hard on the wheel, and ended up in a sharp donut, smoke and dust flying up in a cloud as the Impala finally made it to a stop and stalled out. 

            Then Dean punched him in the face and he forgot everything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Diegetic music is "I'll Fly Away" by the Statler Brothers:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jRS9ZMoeLb0
> 
> "Dukes of Hazard" scene being referenced is here:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wzIHw_hCPkQ
> 
> "Cannonball Run" scene being referenced is here:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xxdpKopak8o
> 
> Mr. Fun quite enjoyed this chapter, calling out the various car stunts as they were named by Blake and Cass. "They did a Dukes of Hazard AND a Cannonball Run! That was great!"


	20. Two Worlds Collide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five grown men crowd into a single police cruiser and tensions run high.

            Job one was getting the two suspects out of the car.  The doors were unlocked, but the two were too busy beating the shit out of each other to take any real note of the hands pulling at them, other than to resist being drawn apart from each other.  Finally Blake managed to wrap his arms around Adam and drag him out the door, where he continued to yell and curse and attempt to reach Dean.  Meanwhile, Dean was busy crawling over the center console, yelling back at Adam and all but ignoring Cass, who was trying with little success to drag him back.  Blake solved the problem by physically carrying Adam around the front of the car towards the passenger side.  Dean, still trying to go after him, immediately crawled backwards.  He continued to ignore Cass, intent on murdering Adam until Cass shoved him against the side of the car and moved to cuff him.

            “The hell?” Dean yelled, distracted from his rampage and looking down at his cuffed hand in surprise.  He looked up at Cass and frowned.  “What are you doing, Angel Eyes?  Those things are freezing!”

            “Stop resisting!” Cass ordered, shoving him against the car again and grabbing his other arm.

            “Holy shit, he’s right!” Adam yelped.  Blake had shoved him against the hood of the car and was busy cuffing him, as well.  “Where did you have these things, a freezer?”

            “Our pockets, actually,” Blake explained, pulling Adam back up now that he was secured.  “And they’re actually not cold at all.  They feel cold to you because you’re just such a sensitive little darling.”

            “Thank you for trying to set the whole town on fire here,” Sam called.  The agent had ignored the two suspects in favor of attacking the burning brush alongside the road with a small fire extinguisher he’d found in the cruiser.  “You two got all these bushes on fire!  You’ve got no real control over your powers at all, do you?”

            “They’re controlled now,” Cass declared.  He’d finally managed to cuff Dean.

            Dean and Adam immediately quieted as they looked back at the smoking brush.  They turned to regard each other, and then looked down, becoming still and sullen.

            “Well!  At least you’re not going to deny it,” Blake noted.  “That’s a nice change.”  He patted Adam down and whistled as he began to remove objects from his pockets.  “What the hell are you two carrying?  I got a butterfly knife, a switch blade, and is this a set of brass knuckles?”

            “I’ve got a couple more knives, some studded gloves, a sap, and a folding straight razor over here,” Cass called.  “What, exactly, did you two gentlemen need this sort of hardware for?”

            “It’s for work,” Dean told him.  “We sell Tupperware.”

            “We sell Avon, too,” Adam added.  “You guys need any?”

            Cass blinked.  “Tupperware and Avon?”

            “They’re being a couple of smartasses, Cass,” Blake explained patiently.

            “I see.”  Cass dropped the items he’d collected from Dean’s pockets onto the roof of the Impala and pulled Dean back.

            Dean scowled.  “Careful!  You scratch my Baby’s paint and I’ll have your ass!”

            “Oh, that’s great, Dean!” Adam yelled.  “We’re getting arrested, and you’re still worried about this damned car?  Officers, my friend needs a bit of privacy for a conjugal visit.  Just lube up the tail pipe and get it over with, would you?”

            And once again, the two were screaming at each other.

            Sam tossed the now-empty fire extinguisher into the cruiser and rubbed his temples.  “Can we please just get these two back to the station?”

            “Of course!”  Cass looked sympathetically at the FBI agent.  “Did you want to sit in the back, maybe talk to your brother a bit?  We can’t give you much privacy, but if there’s anything you wanted to say to him?”

            “I can say all that I have to say to him right here and now,” Sam declared.  “You’re under arrest for theft, breaking and entering, assault and battery, and arson.  You have the right to remain silent…”

            Blake and Cass winced as Sam continued to recite Miranda.  Adam grew stiff, his eyes fixed on Dean.  Dean’s eyes closed for a moment, his face twisted into a grimace of pain.  But his features quickly smoothed out, returning to neutrality.  His eyes, however, were fixed straight ahead.  Adam’s eyes narrowed, glaring daggers at Sam.

            Sam ignored him, finished Miranda, gathered the weapons, and marched back to the cruiser.  He paused, glaring at The Flapper.  “This has been,” he announced, “the single most insane, over-the-top experience I have ever had in my life.  I have to tell you that I am very glad it’s over!  Now take that damned thing off of the hood, and for pity’s sake, unhook the gospel music from the siren!”  He climbed into the front passenger seat and slammed the door.

            “I’ll get The Flapper,” Blake said.  “Let’s go, gentlemen.”

            “What about my car?” Dean asked.  “You assholes better not mess her up like you did the last time you impounded her!”

            “It’ll…  She’ll be picked up soon,” Cass assured.  “The crew will be very gentle with her.”

            “They better be!”

            Adam grumbled under his breath, but Blake paused, looking the car over.  “I can see why you’re worried.  This is one damned fine machine you got here!”

            Dean lit up like the sun.  “Thank you!  Nice to meet someone who can appreciate the finer things in life!”

            “You know it, buddy!  Hell of a nice restoration job, did you do it yourself?”

            “Hell yeah!  Nobody touches my Baby but me!”

            Adam sighed dramatically.

            “Damn!  You ever work on race cars?” Blake asked, pushing Adam into the back of the cruiser.  “I’d bring you on my crew if you weren’t a damned criminal!”

            “You race?  No wonder you were able to keep up with Baby!  Of course, if I’d been driving…?”

            “Oh, bite me, Dean!”

            “No biting,” Cass cautioned.   He climbed into the back seat and pulled Dean in after him, putting himself in between the two.

            Blake quickly replaced The Flapper in the trunk and climbed into the driver’s seat to discover that an irritated Sam had already disconnected the iPod and tossed it into the glove box.  Blake shrugged, started the engine, and a moment later the crowded cruiser was headed back to the station.

            “You do have a very pretty car,” Cass tried, looking uncomfortable in the silence.

            Dean looked at him.  “Pretty?”

            “Yeah, it’s, well, shiny?”

            Dean’s eyebrows shot up.  “Shiny?

            [Adam snickered.  “Your ‘Angel Eyes’ is trying to make small talk with you, Dean-o.”](https://funtimewriter.tumblr.com/post/163005446287/my-artist-is-back-this-time-even-including-some)

            “He should probably try another subject,” Dean suggested, looking out the window.  “Probably doesn’t know an oil filter from a cabin filter.”

            “An oil filter filters oil, and a cabin filter filters…  Cabins?” Cass guessed.

            This time, Adam laughed out loud.

            Dean smiled and rolled his eyes.  “You’re cute.”

            Cass looked confused.  “You said I was hot before.  I’m not sure if cute is better or worse.”

            “Cass, quit flirting with the fucking prisoner!” Sam yelled.  “They’re going to jail!  That’s not a fitting place to start a relationship, alright?”

            Cass seemed to sink in on himself.  “Sorry.  I wasn’t flirting, exactly, I’ll…  I’ll just shut up now.”

            “Your baby brother Sammy’s a real dick, Dean,” Adam noted.

            “So he is.”

            “Fuck you,” Sam called without looking back.

            Blake frowned at him, and then changed the subject.  “Do you have any idea how long we have been looking for the two of you?  It’s been multiple states, the FBI, hell, Sammy here is the fifth agent that’s been assigned to your case…”

            “You said we were under arrest for assault and arson and some other stuff?” Adam asked.  “We’re just passing through!  We come in to see family and then we go back to work.  I have no idea who you think we are.  You have nothing on us, and Crowley’s going to destroy you! 

            “You boys sure you’re not just feeling lonely?” Dean suggested.  “We all know about you and Adam in that alley, ‘Big Country,’ and Angel Eyes, you were already trying to flirt with me!  Don’t you think you’re pressed up kind of close to me right now?”

            “The space is quite limited with three grown men in this seat,” Cass defended, blushing.  “Some contact is unavoidable!”

            “Then what’s with the eyes?” Dean demanded.  “Big Country has been watching Adam in the rearview mirror more than the road, and you’re going to swivel your head right off of your neck, the way you keep turning it to look at me!”

            Blake pinched his lips tightly together, his eyes suddenly intent on the road.

            Cass squirmed.  “We’re only monitoring our prisoners.”

            “Ooo, I think you hit a nerve, Dean,” Adam called.  “They finally got us in handcuffs, and now things are getting interesting!  If Sammy wasn’t here, we’d be pulled over somewhere private so you two could ‘monitor’ us up real close, wouldn’t we?”

            Cass sputtered.  “The presence of his brother isn’t…!”

            “Stop calling me that!” Sam snapped.

            “Hey asshole, he never gave up on you!” Adam snapped back.  “He talked about you all our lives, you insensitive prick!  He never wanted to leave, he was forced, and the same thing could just as easily have happened to you!  The only reason you got to be a big fancy FBI agent is because he was born before you, so your asshole father took him and let you live your life!  You want to fucking judge someone, look no further than daddy dearest!”

            Sam whirled around to glare at Adam.  “You need to just shut the fuck up right now,” he warned.

            “Or what?” Adam challenged.  “You want to start something, asshole?  Pull over, take these cuffs off of me, and let’s dance!”

            “Adam, knock it off.”

            “No, Dean!  I don’t give a fuck who he is, he doesn’t get to…”

            “Alright, that’s enough!” Cass yelled, finally starting to lose his temper.  “If everyone doesn’t cool down right now, we’re all going through the Car Wash!”

            “Oh, hell no!” Sam protested.

            “What’s the car wash?”

            “Trust me, you don’t want to know.  I just got my other suit dry!”

            That quieted everyone for a while.

            “You’re wasting your time,” Adam grumbled after a bit.  “Crowley will have us out in no time!  I don’t know where you came up with…”

            “Actually, you boys will probably need to find another lawyer,” Sam said.  “Now that we know you’re the Fat Boys and he knows we’re already…”

            “You called us what?”

            “Who the hell are you calling fat?”

            “We gave you that nickname because one trademark of your presence is the use of stolen cards to buy pastries, usually pies,” Cass explained.  “I’ll confess, I expected the two of you to be significantly overweight.”

            “So did I!” Blake added.

            “Well, we’re obviously not significantly overweight,” Adam pointed out.  His voice was calm, but his eyes were flickering anxiously.

            “Adam here is actually a health food nut,” Dean added.  “You got the wrong guys!”

            “Oh really?” Sam called.  “Funny thing, Dean, but I seem to recall you asking for a desert menu specifically to order pie before I even ordered food when we were getting lunch!  He may be a health nut, but you are clearly not.”

            “You’re into health food?” Cass asked, suddenly interested.

            “He’s a nut about it,” Dean grumbled.  “Lives on greens and yoga.”

            “Yoga?  I just recently started classes!”

            “Really?”  Adam looked at Cass with new interest.  “I do it every day!  That, and jogging.”

            “Oh, you jog?  Me, too!  Five miles every day!”

            “Oh, saints preserve us!” Blake groaned.  “God made two of them!”

            “It’s better than pies!” Adam grumbled.  “Dean’s addicted.  He lives on pie and cheeseburgers.  The fact that he doesn’t weigh a metric ton is proof positive that Dean is clearly supernatural.”

            “Hey Adam, how about you have a nice healthy dose of shut the hell up?” Dean suggested.

            “How about you blow me, Dean?”

            “Alright, let’s try this!” Blake called.  “Y’all just calm down, and…”

            “Y’all know I’m a hick from the sticks?” Adam mocked.

            “Stop being such an ass, Adam!” Dean ordered.  “You don’t get to make fun of his accent after you were spanking it thinking about him in the shower this morning!”

            “Dean, I swear, I will end you!”

            “Oh, try it, you little shit!”

            “Enough!” Cass yelled.  “Would the two of you save your energy, please?  Once you’re processed, we’ll be sure to put you into separate holding cells.  That should calm you down.”

            “Hey!  Don’t separate us!”

            “Seriously, why can’t we be in the same cell?”

            “You two are ridiculous!” Sam declared.  “You fight and swear at each other constantly, but you jump to defend each other and get all bent out of shape if you might be separated?  Man, Singer was dead right about salamanders!  You’re both a couple of hot heads, but you do actually stick together.  Blake, Cass, you’re sure those magic cuffs can keep them from going all Pompeii on us?”

            Dean and Adam immediately began yelling in protest.  Cass facepalmed.   “Nicely done, Agent Winchester.”

            “The runes block their elemental powers, yes,” Blake confirmed.  “And that is something that they really did not need to know, Agent.”

            Sam’s face grew beet red.  “I didn’t know it was a big secret!” he defended.  “I mean, you guys were so open about the whole elemental thing!”

            Adam scoffed.  “Should have known the Elemental Falls police force would have anti-salamander cuffs right on hand.  Just goes to show you, doesn’t it?”

            “You know it!” Dean agreed.

            Sam looked back, glancing at the prisoners, and then took in the impassive faces of the two detectives.  “What is that supposed to mean?”

            Dean and Adam looked incredulously at each other, and then back at Sam.  “You don’t know, do you?” Adam asked.

            “What?” Sam demanded.  “What don’t I know?”

            “Don’t tell him, Dean,” Adam ordered as Dean opened his mouth.  “He’s the big bad FBI agent!  Let him figure it out for himself.”

            After that, the rest of the ride was in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun's comment: That was utterly hilarious, and a bit revealing. Sam made a stupid rookie mistake when he told them about the runed cuffs.


	21. Back Under Lock And Key

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Adam are back behind bars, but Cass wants a chance to say goodbye.

            Cheering and applause greeted Blake and Cass when they marched their two prisoners back into the station.  Dean and Adam were decidedly less impressed, scowling fiercely as they were led into the holding cells.  They protested mightily when they realized they were, indeed, being placed in separate cells.  But Blake and Cass, stone-faced and impassive, only unlocked a single cuff on each prisoner, leaving the runed cuffs in place on one arm to keep their powers in check.

            Curses and insults followed them out.

            They returned to see Sam gathering up his papers and computer, his phone held against his ear with one shoulder.  “You’re leaving?” Cass asked, surprised.

            “Damned right I’m leaving!” the agent snapped.  “I’m on hold with the airport right now.  I cannot wait to fly far away from here!  You two, the elementals, and this whole damned town are way too much, alright?  That car chase was just the icing on the cake!  I’m going back, and I promise you’ll never see me again!”

            Cass frowned.  “But what about…?”

            “Leaving so soon?”  It was Chief Daly. 

            Sam indicated his phone.  “Just as soon as I can arrange a flight, I’m history.  I’ll be back for the trial long enough to testify, but that’s it.  Congratulations, you’ve chased yet another FBI agent out of Elemental Falls!”

            “Well, most of them certainly weren’t much help,” Carson admitted.  “But I have to say that I’m sorry to see you go.  You’ve got a lot of work to do on interacting with local assets, but we wouldn’t have gotten nearly as far as we did without you.  And we certainly wouldn’t have caught the Fat Boys!”  He extended his hand towards Sammy.  “Overall, I have to say it’s been a pleasure.  Thank you, Agent Winchester.”

            “Sure.”  As they shook hands, Sam’s eyes fixed on the chief’s lapel, where a gold pin gleamed.  “What’s that?  Looks like a mermaid wrapped around a pearl?”

            “This?”  Carson indicated the pin.  “It’s an old family heirloom from way back.  You like it?”

            “It’s not something I’d expect to see on a police chief, but that’s not why I’m staring at it.  I recently saw something similar, a pin with a dragon wrapped around a piece of obsidian.  Crowley was wearing it.”

            “Eh, no accounting for taste,” Carson declared.  He slapped Sammy on the shoulder.  “Good luck in your future investigations.  I want you to know that I fully intend to let your superiors know how much help you were on this case.  You’ve got a great future ahead of you.”

            Sam straightened proudly and smiled.  “Thank you, Chief Daly.  That means a lot.”

            Carson gave his shoulder a parting squeeze.  Then he turned and started towards Blake.

            Cass hovered near the agent.  “You’re really just leaving?” he asked quietly.  “Without even trying to talk to him?”

            “I assume by ‘him’ you mean my biological brother,” Sam said calmly.  “Listen, Novak, I’m not sure what you expected.  Some kind of joyous reunion with tears and hugs, I suppose, but if he really is my brother?  And incidentally, that has not been proven!  He’s my brother because we shared the same parents.  But that’s it.  We’ve got nothing in common, we don’t know each other, and frankly, I’m satisfied with that.  I’ve lived my entire life believing my brother was dead.  As far as I’m concerned, he can stay dead.”

            “But he’s not dead!  He’s alive, and he’s just through those doors in a holding cell,” Cass urged.  “Once the state boys come to pick him up, he’ll probably spend the rest of his life behind bars!  Don’t you think you should at least talk to him while you have the chance?”

            “We already talked, if you’ll recall?” Sam pointed out.  “We had lunch, the conversation did not end well, and I have nothing more to say to him.  Dean Winchester is a criminal, and he’s behind bars where he belongs.”

            “Sam, your brother did not choose the life he lives,” Cass stressed.  “Neither one of them did!  They were both abducted, and if things had been different…?”

            “They may not have chosen to start the life my father dragged them into, but they did choose to continue it,” Sam pointed out.  “Cass, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but leave me alone.  My family is none of your business.  Alright?”

            Cass raised his hands and backed off.  “As you wish.”

            “I won’t lie and say it’s been a pleasure working with you, Novak,” Sam declared.  “But you really are a damned fine detective.  Take it easy.”

            “You, too.”  He watched as the agent went out the door and moved out of sight.  Then he looked for Blake and saw him surrounded by people, all smiling and congratulating him.  Catching his eye, Blake waved him over.  But Cass smiled and shook his head.

            He didn’t want to be surrounded by people right now.

            Well, maybe one person.

****

            Cass heard them as soon as he went through the door leading towards the holding cells.  For once, they weren’t arguing.  Instead, Dean and Adam were entertaining themselves by singing “I Fought The Law and the Law Won,” breaking into two-part harmony on the chorus.  They both had fine voices, and for a moment, Cass simply listened.

_“I left my baby and it feels so bad!_ _I guess my race is run.  She's the best girl that I ever had!  I fought the law and the law won, I fought the law and the law won!”_

            “You guys have really good singing voices,” Cass called when the song was over.

            Silence.

            Cass moved in.  Dean and Adam had been lying on the cots in their cells, singing at the ceiling.  Now they sat up, watching Cass as he came closer.  Dean got to his feet and moved to the bars, fiddling with the cuff on his wrist.  “What do you want, Castiel?” he called.

            “To talk,” Cass said, approaching the bars.  “Just to talk.  That’s all.  And it’s Cass.”

            “Fine, Cass.”  Dean gripped the bars of the cell and leaned against them.  “Talk.  What’s on your mind that’s so important you had to come down here and see me in my cage?”

            The reminder of their roles flustered Cass.  Dean was behind bars, with his salamander powers locked away by the runes on the cuffs.  Sam believed that the state C.O.s would be coming for the two, as would be protocol for prisoners who had committed offenses like the Fat Boys.  But this was Elemental Falls, the two were elementals, and the elementals policed their own.  Dean and Adam had broken The Rules.  That meant their judgment would fall to the elders, the true leaders of the elementals, well before they were processed through the criminal justice system.  Carson was wearing his elder pin, obviously about to meet with the other elders to discuss the rogue salamanders again now that they were in custody.  Cass didn’t – couldn’t – believe that the two had done anything serious enough to warrant being taken to the falls.  But they would surely be punished.

            Dean had to be frightened about that.

            Despite the bravado in his voice and Dean’s fierce scowl as he glowered through the bars at Cass, Cass didn’t think he was feeling all that brave.  Was Dean scared?  Was he trying to hide behind this mask of machismo?  Was it possible that… 

            “Hello?  Earth to Cass!” Dean called.  “Dude, if you’re just going to stand there and stare at me through these bars, would you at least throw some peanuts or something?”

            Cass blinked in confusion.  “Peanuts?”

            “That’s what you do with animals in cages at the zoo, right?”

            “I’m not here to stare at you in a cage, Dean!” Cass exclaimed, flustered.

            “Then what the hell do you want?  Spit it out, would you?  I’m going to charge admission if you just keep staring at me!”

            “I…”  Cass rubbed at the back of his neck.  Dean’s green eyes were boring into him, and he couldn’t think.  He could barely breathe.  His heart was pounding so hard and fast he felt faint.

            “Um, you ok?” Dean was asking.  “You just went kind of pale on me, man!”

            “Uh…  Yeah, I think so.”  Cass gripped the bars for support, willing the dizziness to pass.

            That was when he realized he was standing only inches away from the reason he was feeling dizzy in the first place.

            Up close, Dean was dazzling.  The green eyes were golden brown around the pupils.  His hair was mussed and a bruise was forming on his cheek, probably the after-effect of his fight with Levine.  His face bore a dark stubble that should have detracted from his appearance, but only made his face seem more rugged.  His body was lean and sturdy, with muscular limbs and broad, wide shoulders.  Dean had a masculine, rough-edged type of beauty.  It was a look that had always attracted Cass, and he found he simply couldn’t tear his eyes away.

            “Cass?  Dude, you seriously need to get a grip, ok?”

            “You’re beautiful!” Cass blurted.

            Dean’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline.  “Oh.”

            “I’m sorry.  I know this is really sudden, and I cannot imagine what you must think of me.  But you’re all I’ve been thinking about since we spoke back at the diner!  And it’s crazy, I mean, we barely even spoke and when we did, you were so upset with me about your brother, and then you went to eat with your other brother, and I…”  Cass grimaced.  “I’m out of my mind.  I barely eat or sleep.  All I do is think about you, imagine how it would be if we were… together.  I just want to see you, to be with you again.  I want a chance to make you understand.  Make you see me as something besides the cop who killed your brother!” 

            Dean pinched his lips together, looking meaningfully at the bars.  “I think that it would be a bit hard to go out on a date with you right now, Cass.  You just locked me up, remember?”

            “I know it can’t work!  I mean, I’m a cop, and you’re probably going away for a long time, but I can help you, Dean!”  Cass reached through the bars and clung to Dean’s hand.  “I can help you both!  You used blanks at that robbery, and there’s no evidence you ever killed anyone.  You could testify against the King of Hell in exchange for lenience!  And I know some people.  I’ve got connections.  I can get you early parole, you and Levine both!  Then…”  He shyly looked down, intertwined his fingers with Dean’s.  “Then, we could be together.  I’d take good care of you.”

            “I know you would.”  Dean’s voice was soft.  “You’re stable, solid, something that’s been lacking in my life for a long time.  But at the same time, there’s that element of danger with you, isn’t there, Cass?  Because you’re out there, facing down the bad guys to protect everyone else.”  He smiled and brought Cass’s hand up to his face.  “You’re a hero, Cass.”

            “N-not really, I just…  It’s just a job.”  Cass couldn’t believe this was happening, that _Dean was letting him touch him,_ that he could just open his hand and stroke his cheek like this.  He did, resting his hand against Dean’s face.

            To his amazement, Dean turned his face into his hand and put a gentle kiss on the palm.  He moved closer to the bars, head still tilted into Cass’s hand.  His face bore a gentle smile.  “Will you be there for me, Cass?” he was asking.  “Will you be waiting, when I’m out of this prison and I’m free to make my own choices?”

            “I would wait an eternity for you!”  Cass pressed against the bars, reaching his other hand to stroke Dean’s hair, watching as the green eyes went half-lidded and the smile grew wider.  “I’ll be there, I swear it!”  His eyes moved to Dean’s lips.  “I’d do anything for you.”

            “I believe you.  I really believe you would.”  Dean planted another kiss on Cass’s palm.  Then, still smiling, he stepped back, walking backwards.  “But I think right now you’ve got work to do, don’t you?  The sooner you get us processed, the sooner you can help get me out.”

            “Huh?”  Cass had lost the ability to form coherent thoughts.  “Why, why are you going away?”

            “Cass, baby, think!” Dean urged.  “What’s going to happen if someone comes in here and sees us, huh?  You’d lose all credibility!  You gotta go back out there, Angel Eyes, and do your job.  Hey!”  He indicated the cell.  “It’s not like I’m going anywhere, right?  I’m literally a captive audience!  You can come back and see me any time!”

            “Y-you’re right, of course,” Cass stammered.  “I’ll be back soon, Dean.  I promise.”

            “I’ll be waiting.”  Dean blew him a kiss.  “See you soon, Cass.”

            Cass shivered.  “I love the way you say my name…  One kiss?”

            Dean chuckled.  “Cass.  Leave me alone and get back to work before you get into trouble!”

            “Right.”  Cass had to physically force himself to turn away.  He paused at the door, looking longingly back at Dean.  Dean winked and made shooing motions, and Cass finally went through the door.

            Dean, his!  He couldn’t believe it.  But he was right.  The faster Cass got them processed, got the two of them worked through the system, the sooner Dean would be free.

            Then they could be together.

            With a spring in his step, Cass hurried back to his desk.

****

             Back in the holding cells, Adam groaned theatrically.  “I cannot believe you, Dean!  I desperately want a bag of popcorn, but I don’t know if I want it for the popcorn or for the bag to puke in.”

            “I,” Dean declared, “am awesome!”

            “You’re a damned tease is what you are!” Adam snorted.  “Poor guy, you’re gonna break his heart.”

            “He’ll live.  Meanwhile, we can get out of this damned town and stay out for about the next sixty years.”

            “Sounds good to me, assuming we can actually pull it off?”

            “Ok, Captain Negative!  Look, all we gotta do is get Baby out of impound and we’re history!  We’re practically home free, and it’s all because of how awesome I am.  Go on, you can say it!  Dean is awesome!”

            “I’ll say it when you get me the hell out of this cell!”

            A trail of flame suddenly arched around the dividing wall between the cells, and then roared up.  A moment later, Dean was leaning against the wall in Adam’s cell, a cocky grin on his face and the key to the runed cuffs he’d stolen from Novak hanging from his index finger.  “Quickest hands in all the land!  Now say it, and I’ll get you out of those cuffs!”

            “Ok,” Adam laughed.  “Dean is awesome!  Now get me the hell out of here!”

            Dean bowed.  “Your wish is my command!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun says this was too much mush. Saw Dean’s play from a mile away. Thinks Cass was pretty dumb.


	22. When An Angel Falls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cass must deal with the consequences of his actions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> non-diegetic music here is "Way To Fall" by Starsailor  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9aocV6pOeA8

            Cass stood inside the men’s room stall, his hands pressed flat against the door and his head resting between them, forehead on the surface of the door.  His eyes were closed and, despite where he was, he was taking long, slow, deep breaths.

            He felt like throwing up.

            Only a short time ago, he’d felt on top of the world.  He’d believed, he’d actually believed, that someone like Dean Winchester could want someone like him.  That they could be together.  That Dean could belong to him and him alone, maybe even love him.

            How could he have been so stupid?

            Over and over again, he saw the video from the cameras on the holding cells play in his mind.  He saw himself, wide-eyed and oblivious, pressed up against the bars for better access to the man inside while Dean Winchester held his hand with one hand and slipped the other into his pocket.  He’d been completely oblivious.  And now, after he’d gone out with a goofy smile on his face, Winchester quickly unlocked the runed cuffs, traveled on a fire trail to the next cell.  A moment later, Levine was free as well.  Then Winchester had his arm around him, the fire trail appeared again, and they were both gone in a flash of flame. 

            Gone.  Like the biggest case of his career.  Like his self-respect.  Like his heart.  Maybe even his job.

            His thoughts were interrupted by the bathroom door opening.  He could hear the two who’d entered laughing.  “Damn, Novak really screwed the pooch this time, didn’t he?” 

            “Surprised Daly didn’t suspend his ass!  Did you see the look on Shelton’s face?” 

            Cass closed his eyes and quieted his breathing, listening as Jenkins and Miller talked at the urinals, unaware of his presence.

            “You gotta admit, this whole mess was just a matter of time,” Miller declared.  “Novak’s never really fit in, and he’s been alone for, what’s it been, almost five years now his boyfriend’s been gone?  And you know he’s got the hots for Shelton.”

            “Had the hots for Shelton, past tense,” Jenkins corrected.  “I think everyone knew that.  But he never acted on it.  I never thought he’d be this stupid, though, to let a prisoner pick his pocket trying to get a little man love.”

            “Don’t be a homophobe.”

            “I’m not!  I’m just saying it’s a damned stupid way to torpedo your career.”

            “Sure, but the guy’s got to be lonely as hell,” Miller pointed out.  “I could see a couple of pretty boys pulling a fast one on that ditz easy, especially after what his boyfriend pulled on him.  You remember that shit?”

            “How could I forget?  How much did he take Novak for?”

            “Almost sixteen grand, everything he inherited from his maternal grandparents and all his savings.  That doesn’t even include the spending spree the bastard went on with Novak’s credit cards.  Poor guy almost lost his house, his credit’s shot, is it any wonder he didn’t get serious with anyone else again after that?”

            Jenkins gave a low whistle.  “Pretty damned sad, someone as intelligent as Novak becoming the victim of identity theft to a worthless piece of shit like Justin Mertz.  But you gotta admit, he really came through on that Milligan mess.”

            “Yeah, he did, but honestly, even then, we all said he’s not detective material.  The only reason he does half as well as he does is Shelton!”

            “What about me?”  Blake’s voice seemed unnaturally loud as it echoed through the men’s room.

            “Miller and I were just talking about Novak,” Jenkins explained.  By the sound of things, he was washing his hands at the sink.  “Blake, especially considering what just happened, I think you’d have a sympathetic ear if you asked for another partner.”

            “That idiot just let the guys you two have been chasing for years escape!” Miller agreed.  “I would like to be a fly on the wall when Daly has to explain that to the FBI!  Novak’s lucky his ass isn’t fired.”

            “Cass is the reason we caught them today in the first place,” Blake declared.  “He’s the one who figured out the final piece of the M.O., what they’ve been doing with that Impala.”

            “Shelton, seriously,” Jenkins said.  “It’s cool that you defend the guy, but you can’t really defend him this time.  He fucked up, big time, on the biggest case you two have ever had.  You know there’s going to be an investigation, and what the hell are you going to tell them, huh?”

            “It’s not like we can ever show them that tape,” Blake grumbled.  “We’ll explain that one of the suspects picked Cass’s pocket and escaped.”

            “And Cass let that happen because…?”

            “He made a mistake!” Blake yelled.  “It happens to us all.”

            “That is one hell of a mistake!”  Footsteps as Miller moved closer to Blake.  “Look.  Novak isn’t one of us, alright?  I know you like the guy, hell, we all do!  And we know you guys worked well together in the past.  But what that lovesick idiot just did could potentially ruin both of your careers, not just his!”

            “Cass and I will get through this, just like we get through everything,” Blake declared.  “As a team!  Thank you for your concern and your comments, gentlemen.  Now isn’t there something you needed to attend to?”

            “Your life, Shelton.”

            “Don’t say we didn’t try!”

            “Thank you, and goodbye!”

            Cass hadn’t moved throughout the entire conversation.  He remained as he was as footsteps came nearer until they stopped outside of his stall.  “Cass?” Blake called.  “I know you’re in there.  I can see your sensible shoes.”

            “Leave me alone, Blake.  I’m taking a shit.”

            “You’re standing right behind the door, Cass, and it doesn’t look like your pants are down.  Unless you can shit with enough force and aim to blast one through your clothes and into the toilet, it’s about to get very messy in there.”

            Cass pounded the heel of his hand against the door.  “Just leave me alone!”

            “Come out of there.  We both know you’re not taking a shit, and we both know what you’re really doing.  I’m not leaving, so get your ass out here.”

            Cass pounded his hand against the door again.  Then he did it several more times in rapid succession, beating his hand against the door until it smarted.  “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!  _Fuck!_   Fuck me, Blake, just _fuck me!_   I’m so fucking stupid!”

            “The last thing you are is stupid,” Blake said softly.  “What you are is lonely.  And I get it.  Believe me, I get it.”

            Cass grimaced.  “Yeah.  I guess you do, don’t you?  Even though you’re married and your wife lives with you, you’ve been lonely for a while now.”

            Blake gently knocked on the stall door.  “C’mon, now.  Open up.”

            For a moment, Cass considered ignoring him.  But he knew Blake too well.  His partner would stand outside the door and keep talking to him until Cass finally opened the door.

            Fuck it.  It wasn’t like he could sink any lower.

            Cass opened the door and stood framed by it.  His face was streaked with the tears that still flowed from his blue eyes, which were fixed on the floor.  He raised his hands, shrugged, and then let them fall back to hang at his sides.

            Blake immediately moved forward and wrapped his arms around his partner, hugging him tightly.  That did it.  Cass broke down completely, sobbing into Blake’s shoulder.  Blake didn’t say a word, simply held him close and let him cry himself out.

            When Cass finally quieted, Blake gently led him out to the sink, where he wet a paper towel with cool water and handed it over.  Cass mopped at his face.  Closing his eyes, he leaned over the sink.  “Bad enough I probably ruined my own career,” he said.  “I don’t want to drag you down with me.  Blake, I want you to ask Carson for another partner.”

            “I want the Dallas Cowboys to win the Superbowl,” Blake replied.  “I don’t see that happening.  If there’s one thing that’s been made very clear to me recently, it’s that we don’t always get what we want.”

            “Dammit, Blake, I’m serious!” Cass exclaimed.  “The feds were involved with this one.  When they hear what I did, how I let those two escape…?”

            “You made a mistake.  It’s not the first and it won’t be the last, either.  God knows I’ve made enough on my own, and I’ve got a lot more left in me.”

            He tried to put his arm around Cass’s shoulders, but the smaller man was quick to squirm free.  “Don’t touch me, Blake.  Look at me!  I’m so fucking pathetically lonely that I just let a prisoner pick my pocket, all because I was so desperate to be close to him that I completely lost my head.  I fell for the oldest trick in the book, Blake.  I let myself believe I could have someone that’s so completely out of my league…!"

            Blake scoffed.  “If anything, you’re out of his league, Cass.”

            Cass hurled the wet paper towel in disgust.  “Yeah, I’m a real catch!  That’s why I haven’t had anything more than a couple of dates and the occasional one-night stand since Justin left me!”

            “Justin was a piece of shit,” Blake declared.  His blue eyes had grown cold.  “He completely controlled and manipulated you, took you for everything you had, and then left you to face the consequences.  I should have fucking known this was about him!  For two years, you let that bastard convince you that he was the only reason you were worth anything.  It was bullshit then, and it’s bullshit now!”

            “Yes, and that’s why I’m such a popular guy!” Cass yelled.  “I know he played mind games with me, ok?  I realized long ago that he only built on the feelings of inadequacy that were already installed by my mother.  But none of that matters now.  Because the bottom line is, I’m so lonely that I completely lost my mind over some damned beautiful criminal, and now the Fat Boys are gone again!”

            Blake shrugged.  “So we’ll catch the little bastards again.”

            “Blake, they’re both six feet tall.  Winchester’s actually a bit taller.  They’re bastards, alright, but they’re hardly little.”

            That made Blake chuckle.  But it quickly faded.  “I’ll be honest with you, partner.  You’re not the only one who seems to be falling for the criminal element lately.”

            “It’s fairly obvious that Adam Levine has made a real impression on you, Blake,” Cass noted.

            “Is it just as obvious that it was all I could do not to come down to that holding cell just to talk to him?” Blake asked.  “The truth is, if you hadn’t lost your head and let Dean get the keys off of you, I may just have easily have done it with Adam!”

            “Bullshit.”

            “It’s true.  Ever since that night in the alley…  Hell, Cass, I’ve never been into guys, but Adam, he’s…”

            “Different,” Cass finished.  “Like he fills a void you didn’t quite realize you had in your life.  Like the two of you were meant to be together.  Believe me, I know exactly what you mean.”

            “You complete me,” Blake quoted.

            “You had me at ‘Hello,’” Cass added.

            Blake managed to get his arm around Cass and planted a kiss on his temple.  “I love you, buddy!”

            “Dammit, Blake!” Cass exclaimed, smiling in spite of himself as he squirmed free.  “Stop being so good to me.  You’re gonna give me another crush on you.”

            “What can I say?  I’m a sexy bitch.”

            “You’re a bitch, alright.”  Cass suddenly hugged Blake tightly.  “You know, you’re the only one who really gets me.  It’s annoying as hell.”

            “Yeah, well, who else would rate asses for me?”  Blake hugged him back.  “And speaking of nice asses, I should get mine home.  I hate to say it, but Carson’s pretty pissed.  He was all set to go talk to the other elders about those guys when they came up missing.  Now he’ll have to explain himself, and Salamander’s probably gonna be a bitch about it.”

            Cass made a face.  “I know I made it tough for him.  Not only does he have to explain my actions as the Chief of Police, he’s gotta explain them as Undine, as well.”

            “Wait until he’s mayor.  Then he’ll have to explain your actions to the whole town.”

            “I almost hope he loses.”

            “Bite your tongue!”  Blake cupped the back of Cass’s neck and pulled him closer to plant a kiss on his head.  “Anyway, he politely suggested that the two of us not be anywhere he can get his hands on us for a while.  So we’re going home.”

            “Does Gwen know?” Cass asked suddenly.

            “About all of this?  No, and honestly, I don’t intend to bring it up.  We haven’t had a whole lot to say to each other recently.”

            “But does she know you’re coming home early?”

            “No, I haven’t called her,” Blake said, cocking an eyebrow in confusion at his partner.  “Why do you ask?”

            “Because there’s no reason that both of us should be lonely, that’s why.”  Cass’s eyes were filled with a fierce light.  “It’s past time that I got you out of your marriage.”

            Blake blinked.  “You sure you want to do that now, buddy?  I mean, the atmosphere at my place right now is pretty damned toxic, but you just got your heart broken.  You sure you want to go out and deal with Gwen now?”

            “Positive.  You remember what we talked about, how we’re going to trap her?”

            “Yeah.”  Blake took Cass’s shoulders and squeezed them, nodding at his friend.  “Thank you.  No matter how this turns out, it means a lot that you’re willing to try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun says they really have their work cut out for them. Not only do they have to re-capture those douches, but they have to get Cass’s name back into everyone’s good graces. That’s not easy to do after you fuck up on an epic level like that! Is glad Gwen is finally going to face the music.


	23. The Council of Elders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carson and Crowley meet with the elemental Council of Elders, where Carson has to explain recent events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The archive was really being difficult with this chapter tonight. First it wouldn't post, then it posted it twice. I think I've got it, let me know if it's off/missing/doubled/whatever

            Carson, as usual, was the first one to arrive at the Council.  That was intentional.  Carson liked to get there before the others.  It gave him time to get himself into the right mindset.

            The room was somewhat stuffy and felt as old as it was.  While the rest of the community center was modern and fresh, the Council of Elders met in a room that was built from stone raised by the pygmies and mud mortar created by the undines, dried by the sylphs and baked hard by the salamanders.  It was as old as the town, the first permanent building in Elemental Falls.  Every meeting of the Council of Elders had taken place right here, except during the witchcraft trials when the elementals had been forced to go into hiding.  When the larger building had been built, it had been built around the Council Room, hiding it from prying eyes.  Over the years, the Council Room had been surrounded by a Meeting House, a town hall, and eventually the new civic center built just last year.  But nothing and no one had acted to change the Council Room.

            Four crests hung on the walls, each holding a golden figure and gemstones representing one of the elemental groups.  There was the dragon, studied with polished obsidian set into the gold, volcanic glass from the hottest fire on the planet to represent the salamanders.  The next wall had the winged pixie set with polished grey stone that glittered with metallic fragments.  This, Carson knew, was polished meteorite, gems from the sky to represent the sylphs.  Next was the gnome, glittering with inlaid diamonds created by heat and pressure deep in the earth to represent the pygmies.  And finally, there was the mermaid set with pearls, the bounty of the sea to represent the undines.

            Carson moved closer, looking up at the mermaid.  His hand moved to fondly touch the Elder pin on his lapel.  He’d worn it for four years now, after he’d been chosen by the previous Undine and confirmed by the other three elders.  At the time, it had been enough.  But now, Carson had his eyes on a greater prize.

            Only one thing stood in his way.

            Carson moved and stood at the massive table that filled most of the room.  Like the walls, all four elemental classes had combined their powers to build the table and the four chairs of stone and dried, baked mud.  The four crests were again represented here, on the high backs of the throne-like chairs and set into the table at each place.  Next to each of the crests on the table was a circular opening, bored about two inches into the table.  This was meant to hold the scepter, the symbol of the Lead Elder.  The scepter was about two feet high and golden.  The top was square and bore a large gemstone on each of its four faces, one for each elemental group.  While the various symbols of the elemental groups represented substantial wealth, the scepter alone was likely worth more than all the others combined.  It represented the ultimate power in the Council, the tiebreaking vote and the authority to command the Council.  Only the elemental who held the scepter could call these meetings and order a vote.

            If things went the way Carson hoped, that scepter would soon decorate the mermaid crest on the table.

            Carson looked up as the door opened and grimaced when he saw who was coming through.  “Hello, Salamander.”

            “Undine!  I thought I smelled low tide.”

            “Better than sulfur.”

            “Says you!”  Crowley was, as usual, wearing a smug, arrogant grin as he strolled into the Council Room.  “I have to say, I cannot wait to hear what you have to tell us.  Word is, one of your precious angels has just fallen out of heaven!  Tell me, did he bump him widdle head?  I do hope you were a good daddy and kissed it all better!”

            Carson stayed cool, even as he felt himself wanting to bristle and rise to the other elder’s obvious challenge.  “He’s fine.  I’ll pass along your concern.  I’m far more concerned, though, that yet another one of your people has gone rogue!”

            Crowley sniffed disdainfully as he slid into the salamander chair.  “We’ll chat on that when the others get here.”

            “Convenient.”

            “I simply want to be certain that my words aren’t intentionally misconstrued,” Crowley explained pleasantly.  “And I’d prefer not to have to explain myself more than once.  Don’t you feel the same, my dear Mr. Daly?  I would have believed you’d prefer the extra time to try to find out how to explain your precious angel’s obvious incompetence!”

            “That incompetence only benefited your salamander, Crowley!”

            “Ah, so you admit he’s incompetent!  How remarkable!”

            They were interrupted by loud tutting from the door.  “Oh for heaven’s sake!” an elderly woman’s voice called.  “Are you two starting already?”

            “I knew I shouldn’t have answered the phone,” a male grumbled.  “Come on, Sylph, let’s get in there before those two start throwing punches.”

            It was an exaggeration, of course.  The elders were forbidden to directly attack each other.  The very purpose of the Council of Elders was to forestall elemental-on-elemental violence.  But Undine and Salamander immediately stood, respectfully waiting while Pygmy escorted the frail figure of Sylph to her place at the table.  Sylph was a woman who appeared to be at least eighty.  Her white hair was pulled back into a neat bun, and the sylph elder pin featuring a fairy curled around a piece of polished meteorite gleamed on the lapel of her neat navy blue suit dress.  Her blue eyes crinkled in her wrinkled face as she smiled at Pygmy.  The scepter of the Lead Elder was cradled in her arm.

            The pygmy elder apparently hadn’t gotten the message that the Council of Elders was a serious affair.  While Sylph and Salamander wore business suits and Undine wore his formal police uniform, Pygmy’s outfit appeared to have been scooped up off the floor.  His grey t-shirt was wrinkled and had a ketchup stain near the neck.  He wore torn, stained jeans and work boots.  The only concession to the formality of his position, other than the golden gnome clutching its diamond accent that marked him as the pygmy elder, was that his salt and pepper hair and beard appeared to be neatly combed.  He carried a spiral notebook under his arm and a couple of pens, ready to take minutes in his role as Secretary of the Council.

            Salamander and Undine exchanged a glance.  Then the eyes of both men moved to the scepter Sylph carried, watching as she carefully placed it into the slot next to the sylph crest.  She waited while Pygmy moved to his chair, and then she sat.  Only then did the other three elders sit.

            Sylph made a gesture.  “This meeting of the Council of Elders is now called to order.  Undine, you requested the meeting to discuss a rogue salamander, but I understand you have more news to report?”

            Undine rose, ignoring the way Salamander was suddenly exaggerating paying rapt attention, his elbow on the table and his hand supporting his chin while he stared wide-eyed at the chief of police.  “My men captured the rogue salamander and had him in custody,” he began, fixing his eyes and attention on Sylph.  “We had him contained, his powers controlled with the runed cuffs…”

            “Am I the only one who finds it disturbing that the Elemental Falls police department under Undine has salamander-warded handcuffs on hand?” Salamander exclaimed.

            “We have cuffs that are warded for all four elementals,” Undine corrected.  “After the last rogue salamander, it seemed prudent.  It was clear then, as it is now, that the salamanders cannot be relied upon to police their own.”

            “Oh, then I suppose we should be grateful that the undines are willing to step up!” Salamander spat.

            “I didn’t see any of your people out there, Salamander!” Undine pointed out.  “The pygmies couldn’t be bothered either, and the sylphs all ran for the hills!”

            “All but one,” Pygmy said.

            “My people are the most at risk when a salamander goes rogue,” Sylph reminded.  “The element of air inside of our bodies makes us burn quickly.  You all know that!  I couldn’t ask any of my people to take a risk I myself did not!”

            “I don’t deny that Milligan was out of control, and I think we’re all in agreement that warded restraints are an unfortunate necessity,” Salamander declared.  “What I object to is that all four elders here do not have access to them!  Why are they in the possession of Undine alone?”

            “Because I’m the chief of police!” Undine exclaimed, exasperated.  “I don’t have them because I’m Undine, I have them because it’s my officers who go out and deal with rogue elementals, just like Shelton and Novak did with Milligan.  Now, can we please go on?”

            “I still believe that these runed cuffs should be accessible to all four elders!”

            Sylph’s brow furled in disapproval.  “The subject of the warded cuffs is not on the agenda for this meeting.  Your turn to ask questions about them will come at another meeting, Salamander,” she said.  “For now, Undine is speaking on these most recent events!”

            “Thank you, Sylph,” Undine said, giving a cool look to Salamander as he leaned back in his chair.  “As I was saying, his powers were controlled with the runed cuffs and he was locked in one of the holding cells, as was his partner.  As I’d been notified he was being brought in, I had called you, Sylph, asking for a meeting to discuss his case and you’d just agreed when my men locked them up.  Yes,” he called, seeing Salamander lean forward again, “this was Shelton and Novak, my best men.  They happened to be in the company of Agent Sam Winchester from the FBI.  Pygmy, do you need me to slow down?”

            “Nope.”  Pygmy was scribbling frantically as he took the minutes.

            Undine pinched his lips together, knowing the minutes would be illegible as usual.  Nothing to be done for it now.  “Agent Winchester was in the process of leaving, and did so shortly after they arrived.  I said my goodbyes and went to Detective Shelton to congratulate him.  And it was at this point that Detective Novak apparently took it upon himself to visit with the prisoners.”  He paused, indicating the laptop he was carrying in a bag over his shoulder.  “I have the recording from the security footage on the holding cells here.  What happened next is quite clear.”

            “Then by all means, let’s see this tape,” Sylph declared.

            “Oh yes, let’s please do!” Salamander agreed, smirking triumphantly at Undine.

            Undine quickly pulled out the laptop, set it up, and played the recording.  The four elders watched in silence as the trenchcoated detective spoke with Winchester, moved way too close to the bars and got his pocket picked, and then scurried off.

            “What was that detective doing with that man?” Sylph asked.

            Undine paused the recording while Pygmy reached over to gently squeeze her hand.  “The detective prefers males,” he explained.  “It looks like he was making a pass at that prisoner.  What was his name?”

            “Winchester,” Undine explained.  “Dean Winchester.”

            Pygmy cocked an eyebrow, looking at his notes.  “Like Agent Sam Winchester?”

            “That’s right.  Apparently, the two of them are actually brothers.”

            “And you didn’t think that constituted a conflict of interest?”

            “I agree, Pygmy,” Sylph said.  “Undine, why didn’t you contact the FBI and request another agent?”

            “Because his relation to the suspect wasn’t immediately known,” Undine explained.  “And by the time I found out, he’d already traced the Fat Boys, that was our name for Winchester and his partner, Adam Levine, to town.  Novak’s the one who figured out it was them, and he, Shelton, and Agent Winchester were obviously successful in capturing them.”

            “Until one of Carson’s Angels fell head over heels for the agent’s wayward brother!” Salamander exclaimed.  “Oh, that is rich!”

            “This suspect, what was his name, Dan?” Sylph asked.

            “Dean.”

            “Dean.  This is your salamander, the one you thought was rogue?”

            “That’s correct.”

            She frowned.  “So when your detective allowed him to steal the key to those cuffs, he was able to free himself and use his powers?  Oh dear.”

            Undine straightened his shoulders.  “Detective Novak is more than aware of the severity of his mistake.  If you’ll recall, it was Novak and Shelton who took down the rogue salamander Adam Milligan.  How he could allow this to happen is incomprehensible.”

            “Especially since he got injured when he helped take down Milligan!” Pygmy noted.  “He had to have known how vulnerable he’d be if Winchester got out of those cuffs.”

            “Love does make one do foolish things,” Salamander mused.  “Shall we continue the show?  I do so want to see how this all plays out!”

            Undine silently started up the video again.  “You can see here how Winchester uses the key to get out of the cuffs,” he explained.  “Through this whole exchange, Levine remained seated on the cot in his cell.  Then…  There.  The salamander fire trail into Levine’s cell, and Winchester rematerializes there.  Winchester does something here, I’m not sure what.  But then…  Here, he puts his arm around Levine, and here comes another fire trail going into the ventilation system and…  They’re gone.”  He stopped the video.  “I’m pleased to report that Winchester seemed only interested in taking his friend and escaping.  There were no injuries, no damage to the building itself.  From the station, Winchester and Levine made their way to the impound yard, where they surprised and overpowered the guards and reclaimed their vehicle.  When last seen, they were headed for the interstate.”

            “Where they could have gone anywhere,” Salamander declared.  “Brilliant!  A fine example of police work.”

            “They seemed fairly confident while they were in custody, even before Novak played the fool,” Undine snapped, finally starting to lose his temper.  “They fully believed that you could get them out, Salamander.  Now why is that, exactly?”

            Salamander’s grin grew wider.  “I’m afraid I’ll have to claim attorney-client privilege,” he declared.  “You know perfectly well that I’m not at liberty to discuss confidential information about my clients!”

            “I still don’t understand,” Sylph complained.  “What Detective Novak was doing with this salamander?”

            Salmander’s smile became strained.  “We already explained this to you, love.  He was flirting with Winchester.  He was down there looking for a bit of attention and Winchester picked his pockets and sent him out instead.”

            Sylph blinked in confusion.  “Flirting?  But they’re both men!”

            “Yes, dear.”

            “Oh.”  And then her face brightened with understanding.  “Ooooooh!”  She giggled, sounding more than a little demented.

            _The sooner she chooses a new Sylph and steps aside, the better,_ Undine thought.  _And even better when a new Lead Elder takes over!_   A quick glance towards Salamander revealed that he was likely thinking the same thing.  His dark eyes were resting on the scepter, even as his face kept its patient smile.

            “So let me get this straight,” Pygmy began.  “Detective Novak went down to the cells and put himself at risk, knowing Winchester was a salamander, because he was in love with Dean Winchester?”

            “Or a least in lust,” Salamander called.

            Sylph giggled again.

            “Detective Novak, as I’ve said, is aware of the severity of his actions,” Undine reminded.  “We know Winchester is the salamander.  And I’ve looked into his history.  Apparently, his buddy Levine was under investigation into an unsolved explosion that killed three people. Looks like Levine let the police think he was involved.  Levine took the heat, no pun intended, rather than let the real salamander fall under suspicion.”  He paused.  “Naturally, Levine was never arrested due to lack of evidence.  But this is clear evidence for us.  Winchester is rogue.  He’s got no regard for The Rules, he flaunts his powers recklessly, and that has already cost lives.”

            “Any evidence of any murders since then?” Pygmy asked.  “Because I know the name Winchester.  John Winchester was always a loose cannon.  He defied authority all his life, broke laws left and right, and when his wife finally had enough and divorced him, took his kids away?  He went and stole his firstborn back!  Now what makes you think a man like that, who kidnapped his own son, would care enough about The Rules to teach Dean anything about them?”

            “Pygmy’s right,” Salamander agreed.  “I know my salamander families, and John was always trouble.  The Salamander before me was constantly out there, trying to bring him back in line.  And in the end, he ended up getting killed by the same criminal element he’d fallen in with.  Chances are high that his son never even heard of The Rules.”

            Sylph considered this.  Then her eyes moved back to Undine.  “This incident where the people were killed.  Was that when Winchester’s powers manifested?”

            “The timeline would be about right,” Undine said.  “He would have been around twenty-one years old.”

            “And have there been any further deaths since then?”

            “No,” Undine confirmed.  “The Fat Boys have plenty of mayhem to their names, but they’ve never killed anyone that were aware of.”

            “Then I suggest two things,” Sylph declared.  “First, it is imperative that Winchester be recaptured.  Then, Salamander, you need to sit down with him, explain who you are, and see to it that he understands The Rules.  And if he refuses to obey them, or if he harms anyone else with his powers?  Then considering his history, I see no other choice.  I move we exercise Final Justice.”

            Pygmy sucked in his breath.  Salamander frowned.  Even Undine stiffened.  “I second the motion,” he called.

            “The motion is seconded.  Pygmy, Salamander, do either of you object?”

            “I agree to the motion,” Pygmy said.  He was frowning as he continued to take minutes.

            “I would like it noted on the record that I have my concerns,” Salamander began.  “Winchester is a dangerous, violent criminal…”

            “…That you’ve already been representing,” Undine pointed out.  “You’ve been dealing with him and Levine both and it never seemed to bother you before!  Don’t get all delicate on us now!”

            Undine was pleased to see Salamander’s lips press into a thin line.  “I agree to the motion.”

            “Then we are all in agreement.  Undine, you are to contact Salamander immediately when Winchester is recaptured.  This meeting is adjourned.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun says Crowley sucks balls. It was cool to see the Council, that there was more than just the salamanders. Thinks Crowley is a douche to let Dean take the fall for everything, but he totally expects it. He’s surprised he didn’t throw Adam under the bus with him.


	24. The Art Of Seduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cass draws on his best seduction techniques to try to trap Gwen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non-diegetic music here is "One Of These Days" by Gavin Mikhail. Won't make sense until the end of the chapter, though.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M52soKNI-l0

            Cass sat in his car in Blake’s driveway and allowed himself a moment of panic.

            He had no idea what he was doing!

            On the surface, it seemed easy.  He knew that Gwen was attracted to him, and, given the chance, he had no doubt that she’d go after him again.  She’d already done so, many times before.  But at the same time, she was sly, careful.  Every time she’d touched him, even the other morning when she’d wrapped her arms around him at breakfast, she’d done it in such a way that it could be interpreted as innocent, friendly contact.  In his heart, Cass knew that wasn’t the case.  But the fact that she’d made him uncomfortable wouldn’t help his friend in court during a divorce hearing.  Unless he could prove she was unfaithful, that she was willing to cheat on Blake, she’d take her husband for everything he had.

            How would that be any different than what Justin had done to Cass?

            Blake had been the one to track Justin down and bring him to justice for Cass.  Now it was Cass’s turn to get justice for Blake.

            Cass was certainly willing to try.  He had no idea just how much he’d have to give, how far he’d have to let things go in order to get the evidence Blake so desperately needed.  But for Blake, Cass was willing to do whatever it took.

            He leaned back, let his hands fall at his sides, and took a deep breath.  He was glad he’d done yoga this morning.  Although Cass had studied Eastern meditation and physical techniques all his life for inner calm, this was, perhaps, the most nerve-wracking thing he’d ever attempted.  Left unchecked, his thoughts would be chaotic, his mind flying from thought to thought, idea to idea, and leave him completely incapable of focus.  It could be useful.  It fueled his creativity, and was the exact mechanism that helped him make his intuitive leaps on a case.  But it was the worst thing that could happen now.  He needed to be calm, centered, and fully in control of his facilities if he was going to succeed in his mission.  He focused on his breathing, bringing his chaotic thoughts into order, turning the hurricane into a cool summer breeze.  Once he was centered, he would…

            “Cass!  What are you doing here?”

            Cass startled, his inner cool gone like the passing wind.  Gwen stood directly outside of his window, one hand on the roof of his car, smiling at him as he sat like a fool in her driveway.  He could feel his cheeks burn as the blood rushed into them.  “Is Blake here?” he managed, rolling down the window.

            Her smile faded somewhat.  “No, he said he was going out and he wouldn’t be back until late tomorrow morning,” she explained.  “He’s playing poker tonight with some of the guys from work and planning to stay the night out there.  I’ve no doubt they’re planning to get drunk and watch stupid action flicks until they pass out in the den.  Men!”  She rolled her eyes dramatically.  Then they fixed on Cass.  “Actually, Cass, I’m surprised you’re not with them?”

            “I’m not really a poker kind of guy,” Cass explained.  “Besides, I don’t really fit in with most of the guys.”

            “Aww, that’s not true!”

            “I’m afraid it is.  They tend to be, well, poker players and beer drinkers.  I prefer wine coolers and meditation.”

            Gwen bent down, resting her arms on the window of his door, and leaned in towards him.  “I just happen to have wine coolers in the fridge,” she announced.  “Come inside and have one!”

            _Be cool, Cass,_ he warned himself.  _Don’t seem too eager.  Act like you normally would.  She knows you’re not comfortable in Blake’s house without him here, so make her work to get you in!_   “If Blake’s not here, I should probably just head back and talk to him later,” he said aloud.

            Gwen snorted.  She reached inside and opened his door.  “You’re here now, so come inside.  Come on, seatbelt off and out of the car!  This time, I’m not taking no for an answer.  Consider yourself kidnapped, if you have to, but you are coming inside!”

            Cass swallowed.  _Here we go._   He undid his seatbelt and climbed out.  “I’ll only stay for a little while,” he said.  “I’m not comfortable in Blake’s house...”

            “…Without him in it, I’ve heard this from you a million times.  But it’s my house, too,” Gwen reminded, slipping her arm through his.  “And lately, to be honest, living in it has been difficult.  That’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”

            “A-alright.”

            Cass allowed himself to be led into the house.  Gwen took his coat and directed him to the living room to sit on the couch while she went to get the wine coolers.  “You like strawberry daiquiri?” she called.

            “Actually, that’s my favorite flavor.”  It was actually fuzzy navel, but Blake had mentioned what Gwen’s preference was.

            “Really?  Mine, too!”  She returned with two bottles in hand and handed one to Cass.  Then she sat down next to him on the sofa, taking the middle cushion rather than the other end.  “Cass,” she began, “you trained to be a counselor, right?”

            “That’s right.  I wanted to help troubled youth.”

            She traced her finger over her bottle, drawing lines in the condensation.  “What about marriage counseling?”

            “It wasn’t my primary area of interest, but yes, I’ve studied it.”  He tilted his head, looking at her.  “If you would like to discuss your marriage with me, I’m certainly willing to listen.  However, please keep in mind that, while I am a police officer, I am not here in my official capacity.  As to my background in counseling, I didn’t finish my education, and therefore was never certified.  I lack the qualifications to provide a proper counseling session.”

            “That’s fine!”

            “I should also disclose the fact that I consider Blake to be my closest friend.  While I will, of course, attempt to maintain my neutrality out of respect for you as a person and your willingness to approach me for discussion, it remains a high possibility, and is in fact quite likely, that I may exhibit a bias.  Blake and I have a strong friendship that goes beyond our capacity as partners on the job, and…”  He paused, frowning.  “I’m sorry, is something funny?”

            Gwen had covered her mouth with her hand and was giggling uncontrollably.  “Oh, Cass, you’re just adorable!” she exclaimed.  “You sound like a TV drug ad!  ‘Use Cass only as recommended by your doctor.  Side effects of Cass may include warm fuzzy feelings, giggling, and generally feeling much better when faced with his pure adorable nature!’  I’m so glad you’re here!”

            “I’m simply explaining that I may not be able to provide qualified, professional, unbiased counseling,” Cass said, confused.  “I don’t understand how that’s humorous?”

            That only made her laugh harder.  She shook her head, waving her hand.  “See, this is what I mean!  I haven’t even started talking to you yet, and already I feel better!  You’re wasted as a cop, Cass.  You would have made such a wonderful youth counselor!”

            “Actually, my advisor disagreed,” Cass explained, looking down.  He clasped and unclasped his hands as he spoke.  “She seemed to feel that I overlooked too many danger signs in my practical exams.  In the last one, I missed signs that my client may have had suicidal tendencies because I was too focused on her feelings of inadequacy in her job.  If she’d been a real client, she may have done actual physical harm to herself because I failed to recognize the signs.  At first, I resolved to do better, but when my friend was attacked, I became more interested in law enforcement.”  He shrugged.  “It’s probably for the best.”

            “Now don’t say that!” Gwen scolded.  She reached over and took his arm, squeezing it gently.  “I’m sorry if I brought up painful memories.  I’ll tell you what.  You said you didn’t really consider me a friend because we had no personal connections, right?  Well, let’s change that.  You’re here, and I need someone to talk to.  So I’ll talk, and you listen.  Listen as a friend, not a counselor.  And then we’ll see if we can’t make some personal connections, alright?”

            Cass resisted the urge to pull away.  Instead, he nodded.  “Alright.”

            She smiled, squeezed his arm again, and then leaned back.  She took a drink from her bottle and began to talk.

            Cass listened.  It was actually much like he’d suspected.  Gwen had been a thrill seeker all her life, always looking for excitement.  When she’d married Blake, she’d actually been in love.  But at the same time, she’d looked to the big cop as another source of excitement.  She’d imagined Blake chasing down criminals, involved in dangerous altercations and winning accolades as a hero.  But in Elemental Falls, generally the most exciting thing Blake had to deal with was the occasional drunken brawl or domestic violence.  Even when he’d been promoted to detective, she’d quickly realized that they didn’t live in a place with the kind of excitement she craved.

            “Honestly, as scary as it was, in a way Adam Milligan was the best thing that ever happened in this town,” she confessed.  “And just like I knew he could be, Blake was right in the middle of it.  And so were you!  People still talk about it, how brave you guys were, going up against that dangerous salamander!”

            “It wasn’t nearly as exciting as people seem to want to believe,” Cass corrected.  His eyebrows were furled as he stared into his empty bottle.  “And it wasn’t just me and Blake that were involved.  Bobby Singer wasn’t given nearly enough credit for the role he played.  If he hadn’t been there, gotten Milligan calmed down as much as he had, it could have been so much worse.”

            “But it was you and Blake who finally took him down,” Gwen insisted.  She had her hand on his arm again.  “It was the two of you who carried out Final Justice.  Was that hard for you?  To drown him at the falls?”

            Cass winced.  Then he nodded.  “It was probably the worst day of my life.  In the end, he was screaming, cursing at us right until we dragged him underwater.  He never once begged for his life.  If he had?  I don’t know if I could have done it.  It was all I could do to drag him down like that as it was, and when it was over, Blake and I just sat there at the edge of the water, holding each other, throwing up and sobbing until we couldn’t do anything but sit and stare anymore.  Then we just stayed there like that, staring into the water where he was, until people came and led us away so the Council of Elders could retrieve his body, declare Final Justice carried out.”  His eyes were blank, his voice monotone as he spoke.  “They took me back to my sister Anna’s.  She’s six years older than I am, and I think she enjoyed it a little, taking care of me the way she used to when I was little.  But I barely remember the next few days after Milligan died.  I just kept seeing it, over and over, that metal ring set into the rock at the bottom of the pool beneath the falls, the way he struggled, feeling the chain jerking in my hands and then finally seeing the bubbles breaking on the surface when he finally…”  He grimaced.  “I’m sorry.”

            “Don’t be.”  Her voice was soft.  “Blake wasn’t any better.  He just sat there, his eyes these hollow orbs staring at nothing.  I’d put food or drink in his hand and he’d either stare at it or let it fall.  For two days, if I hadn’t actually fed him, told him to chew and swallow, he wouldn’t have done it.  Carson was beside himself with worry for the two of you, did you know that?  Every day, he’d visit, talk to Blake, try to reach him.  Did he come to you, too?”

            Cass nodded.  “I didn’t realize it until about the third day, but Anna told me he’d been there every day, sometimes two or three times a day, doing exactly as you said.  He’s a good chief.  He really cares about his men.”

            Gwen’s hand moved down Cass’s arm until it closed around his wrist.  “You’re a good man, Cass, and a good detective.  Blake really likes you, and so do I.”

            “Thank you.”  His eyes flicked between her hand and his bottle, and then moved to her own empty bottle.  “I’ll get us another bottle.”

            “I’ll get it.”  She let go of him and took his bottle, moving to the kitchen.

            Cass breathed a sigh of relief.  He hadn’t intended to tell her any of that.  He and Blake had filed their official reports, listing Milligan’s cause of death as drowning by misadventure, with the appropriate official channels.  Only Carson and the Council of Elders had heard the real story, calling Blake and Cass before them to explain once they’d recovered.  That had been a painful, nerve-wracking experience.  Cass could remember the way Salamander’s eyes especially had seemed to bore into him, questioning his every action until Cass himself was wondering if he’d done something wrong?  But Cass didn’t understand why he’d just told Gwen all he had.  _What is wrong with me?  She’s a good listener.  Is that it?  I might have told her even more if she hadn’t touched me!_

            “Here we go!” Gwen called, returning with the bottles.  “What do you say we change the subject, huh?”

            “I thought you wanted to talk about your marriage?”

            “I did, and you’re a wonderful listener!  But now let’s talk about something else.”

            For over an hour, Cass listened as she chatted away, talking about her life, her friends, and what she thought she wanted out of life.  “Alicia’s always so together,” she was saying.  “I’d love to be like her!  She always seems to know exactly what she wants, and seems perfectly happy with where and who she is.”

            “But Christina’s more like you,” Cass said.  “Another free spirit?”

            “Yes, exactly!  And I should be closer to her than I am, but honestly, I think we’re just too much alike.”

            “Of course.  You need excitement in your life, so you’ll look for something different.”

            “That’s right!  Alicia’s something different, but she’s not really a risk taker.  She’s perfectly happy as a wife and mother.  But that just isn’t for me.”

            “Oh?  I thought you and Blake wanted a child?”

            She grimaced.  “Blake wanted a child.  I agreed to try to make him happy.  But the truth is, and this is a secret between you and me, Cass, that I never went off the birth control pills.”

            His eyebrows shot up.  “You didn’t?  You lied to Blake?”

            She sighed.  “Cass, I’m just not mother material!  Blake would have made a wonderful father, but he’s not the one who would have had to give up his own body for nine months and then have his vagina stretched beyond all recognition, is he?”

            Cass frowned.  “I cannot actually identify with that, but I suppose I do get the sentiment.”

            She laughed and scooted closer, slipping her arm through his.  “We should have done this years ago!” she declared.  “Every girl should have a gay best friend.  You’re better than any girl, Cass!  You listen, you pay attention, and you get me, don’t you?”

            “I suppose I do,” Cass mused.  “I certainly understand looking for a bit of excitement in your life.  I always was attracted to good guys, but the truth is, the ones I really fell for were the worst kind.  Justin, for instance, and now Dean is…”

            “Dean?  Who’s Dean?  You have a new boyfriend?  Tell me all about him!”

            “No,” Cass said.  His brow furled and his hands tightened around his bottle.  “No, he is not my boyfriend.”

            “You just got all tense and stiff,” Gwen noted.  She set her bottle on the table and rose, moving behind the couch.  When her hands went to his shoulders he jumped, and she giggled.  “Relax!”  Her hands began to work, kneading the muscles in his shoulders.  “I’m good at this, or at least Blake says I am.  See?”

            Cass forced himself to relax.  It did feel good, the hands working at his knotted muscles.  Gwen was right, she was good at massage.

            “So who’s Dean?” she asked.

            “A criminal,” Cass explained.  “Dean Winchester.”

            Her hands paused in their work for a moment.  Then they went back to kneading.  “You listened to me all this time.  I’ll listen to you now.  So tell me.  What happened?”

            Before he knew it, Cass found himself spilling out the story, telling her how he’d fallen for the green-eyed thug, how he’d realized that he and Levine were the Fat Boys, and the terrible mistake he’d made, visiting with Dean in his holding cell.  “In retrospect, I cannot believe how stupid I was,” he said.  His eyes were closed and his head lolled forward as Gwen worked on the muscles in the back of his neck.  It felt wonderful.  “I was lonely, and let myself believe something was there even when he’d done nothing but blow me off the whole time.  But the truth is, I wasn’t much different than you.  I wanted that, the element of danger with him, the excitement, that fire he had in his eyes.  Those eyes, Gwen!  Green eyes that just flash at you when he’s angry.”

            “I know exactly what you mean.  I think we’ve met, actually.”

            “Well, it’s not exactly a big town.  I suppose a chance meeting or two is inevitable.”

            “Mmm.”  Her hands had ceased their massaging.  Cass raised his eyebrows, wondering why and was about to ask when her arms slipped around his neck.  He opened his eyes, surprised as she tightened her arms, leaning forward to whisper into his ear.  “You don’t have to be alone, Cass.  I’m here.”

            “Y-yes, you are, and I really do appreciate that you listened to me,” he said.  His heartbeat had rocketed, and his palms were starting to sweat.  “I think we could potentially become friends.  Like you said, every girl should have a gay best friend!”

            “And maybe a little more.”  Her arms tightened more, her lips so close that they grazed his ear as she spoke.  “You said you were open to being with a woman.”

            “I did say that, yes.”  Cass gripped the upholstery of the sofa cushion beneath him, going stiff and still as she nuzzled in his hair.  She’d touched him many times, but this was the first time she’d ever done something so brazen, so utterly unmistakable.  _This is your chance, Cass,_ he reminded himself.  _This is what you came here for.  Don’t screw it up now!_

            Gwen was moving without letting him go, pulling him slightly sideways as she moved her body around the couch and climbed over the arm of the sofa.  Cass had no idea what she was doing until she was suddenly in his lap, her arms still locked around his neck and her forehead pressed to his.  “Do you still need some excitement, Cass?”  Her voice was husky.  “A little element of danger?”

            “You’re my best friend’s wife!” he blurted before he could stop himself.  “What are you doing?  Get off of me!”

            She pulled back a bit and looked at him as he grimaced.  “Yes, I’m married to Blake.  And I fully intended to stay that way, once he gets out of this slump.  I won’t lie, Cass, and say that I love him.  What we had between us faded a long time ago.  But I need him.”

            “Blake…”  Cass swallowed hard.  His mind raced, searching for what to say next to try to salvage the mess he was making of this.  “Blake is stable, solid, something that’s been lacking in your life for a long time.  But at the same time, there’s that element of danger with him, isn’t there?  Because he’s out there, facing down the bad guys to protect everyone else.”  He smiled.  “He’s a hero, Gwen.”

            Gwen’s eyebrows were slowly rising higher as she stared at him.  “Um, you two have the same job?  And you’re partners!  You’re literally facing the exact same things he is!”

            “Yes, of course,” Cass stuttered.  His wide blue eyes flicked anxiously around, searching for inspiration, and widened when they fell on Blake’s model of the USS Ironsides.  “But Blake, he’s your anchor, isn’t he?  And you’re afraid to cast that anchor off, to sail out on your own.”

            “A nautical reference now?”

            “It’s apt,” Cass insisted.  “That’s what you mean, when you say you need the stability he provides.  Will anyone be waiting, when you’re out of this prison and you’re free to make your own choices?”

            “Cass?” Gwen said slowly.  “I’m not in any prison.”

            “I…  I meant the prison of your marriage!”

            “My marriage is hardly a prison,” she pointed out.  “And I’m certainly free to make my own choices.  What is going on with you, Cass?”

            “I…  That is, I…”  His shoulders slumped.  “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

            A smile spread across her face.  “Aww, that’s so sweet!  You’ve never been with a woman before, have you?”

            “No, I have not, actually,” Cass confessed.

            “Shhh!”  She raised a hand to gently stroke his cheek.  “You’re so shy!  It’s absolutely adorable!”

            “You’re really making me uncomfortable.”

            “Oh, Cass, baby, I’m not going to hurt you!”

            He reached up and pushed her hand away, using his other hand to pull her arm off of his neck.  “I don’t think you’re going to hurt me.  You’re just making me uncomfortable.  Please get off me?”

            She frowned.  “Alright.”  She got up and sat next to him again, watching him as he leaned back against the couch and sagged in obvious relief.  “I’m sorry.  I guess I misunderstood.”

            “I suppose,” he sighed.  He sat up, looking at her.  “Gwen, how did you fall in love with Blake, and then suddenly fall back out of love again?  How could you live with someone, be his wife, when you don’t love him?”

            “I don’t know,” she confessed, rubbing at the back of her neck.  “It just happened, I suppose.  Maybe I never really loved him in the first place?  It was, like you said, his stability I needed, even as I craved the excitement I thought I’d get from him being a cop.  And of course, he’s fantastic in bed.”

            “Of course.”  Cass felt his cheeks coloring again.

            She watched this with interest.  “I suppose hetero sex bores you?”

            “No, not really.  I’ve pretty much always been more interested in men, but as I said, I’m open to being with a woman.  I watched a porno once with some of the guys from the station when Mark retired, something about a pizza man and a babysitter?  The plot made no sense, but the actual sexual acts were interesting.  It’s not much different, really, then what I’ve experienced in my relationships.  A few different parts I’m not used to, is all.”

            “Wait, you watched a porno with the guys?  How did that go?”

            “They laughed at me when I asked why, if the pizza man loves the babysitter, he keeps spanking her,” he confessed.  “After that, they kept asking me what I thought of this or that as it was happening in the movie, but I didn’t say anything.”

            Gwen laughed, throwing her head back and clapping her hands together.  “Cass, you are a treasure!”

            He shrugged.  “They invited me back a few times after that, but I never went.  I probably could have gone, but I didn’t want them to ask me questions again.  They probably meant well, I suppose.  I just didn’t want to be more interesting to them than the movie.”

            Gwen laughed again.  “You’re so sweet and innocent!  A virgin, right here on my couch!”

            “I’m not a virgin.  I’ve actually been with…”

            She rolled her eyes.  “I mean you’re a virgin with women.”

            Cass nodded, conceding the point.  “Yes, that’s true.  I’ve never been with a woman.  But,” he went on, seeing her interested expression, “my first time should certainly not be with my best friend’s wife!”

            Her dark eyes glittered.  “What if it was with your best friend’s wife… and your best friend?”

            “I cannot imagine a more awkward situation,” Cass declared.

            She looked disappointed.  But then she brightened.  “You like Dean Winchester!  I know him!”

            “What about him?” he asked, confused by the sudden change in subject.

            “Weeell,” she said, running a finger up his arm, “when I say I know him?  I mean I _know_ him.  You know, in the Biblical sense?”

            “The Biblical…?  Oh.  Oh!  Wait.  You, with Dean?”  Cass’s eyes were very wide.  His body had gone stiff.

            “More than once, to be honest,” Gwen confessed.  “He comes through town once a month or so, and we hook up.”  She smiled.  “He’s a very good lover, Cass.”

            “Better than Blake?”

            She laughed and playfully swatted at his arm.  “Apples and oranges.  They do different things.”

            “Oh.”  Cass suddenly appeared to deflate.  “But if he’s been with you, that means he’s straight.”

            “Um…  Not exactly,” she corrected.  “He has this friend, Adam?  At one point, the two of them were lovers.  It just didn’t work out.  But they’re still friends, and he joined us the last time we were together a few days ago.”

            “Joined you?”

            “A threesome, Cass,” Gwen explained, smiling at the expression on his face.  “We had a threesome.”

            Cass stared at her.  “You slept with Dean Winchester, _and_ Adam Levine?  At the same time?  Only a few days ago?”

            “The night before Blake went out and got himself drunk, to be exact,” Gwen declared, making a face.  “But you’re missing the bigger picture, Cass!”  She leaned forward eagerly.  “Dean is open to a man, and he’s certainly open to a threesome!  The things that the three of us did were hotter than any porno!  Here, give me your phone.”

            Cass pulled out his phone with numb fingers, unlocked it, and handed it over.  She quickly tapped on the screen, and handed it back.  “There.  Now you have his number, and Adam’s, too, in case you’re interested.  All I ask is that you bring me along.”

            “Bring you…?  You want to be with Dean again?”

            Her finger traced the collar of his shirt.  “Actually, Cass, it’s you I really want.  If Dean’s my doorway to you, that’s fine with me!”

            He flinched as her nail scraped the skin of his neck.  “Me?  You want me?  But I don’t understand.  What’s Dean got to do with it?”

            “Cass, baby, do I have to spell it out for you?” she exclaimed.  “I want you!  I’ve wanted you for _years!_   And I have no problem at all with another man being with us if it means I get you in the end.  If it bothers you, that I’m with Blake?  Well, then I’ll divorce him!”

            Cass gaped at her.  “You’d divorce Blake?”

            “Sure!  As long as you marry me!”

            Cass shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.  “You want to divorce your husband, and marry his best friend and partner?  Even though you know I’m gay?”

            Gwen moved in front of him and pulled his hands away from his face.  “Cass, you’re just as stable as Blake is, so you could provide the same thing he can,” she explained patiently.  She took his hand.  “You could provide stability for me, and I could provide Dean for you.  We could have an open relationship with plenty of excitement, yet a stable foundation.  Cass, it would be so perfect!  Dean comes and goes, but while he’s here, we can share, or he can be all yours.  I’d love to watch the two of you together!  And then when he’s gone, you can be mine.  I’ll show you how much fun a woman’s body can be!”

            Cass stared at her.  “You want me?  That’s what this is about?  You’re proposing to destroying your marriage so you can be with me!”

            “Yes,” Gwen said with a sigh.  “I am!  It’s cute how naive you can be, Cass, but I cannot believe that I have to be so specific with you.”  She climbed onto the sofa, straddling him, and put her arms around his neck again.  “I don’t want to be married to Blake.  He isn’t the one I want!  You want Dean?  I can give him to you.  But I.  Want.  You!  Come with me, Cass, and we can both have what we want!”

            Cass slowly raised his hands and gently pulled her arms away.  “Actually,” he said, “I already have what I want.  You just gave it to me.”

            Gwen blinked.  “You lost me.”

            Cass took her hips and gently pushed her off of him.  Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small device.  “Do you know what this is, Gwen?  It’s a recording device from the station.  I came here wired.”

            She blinked again, growing pale.  “What?”

            “Blake is my best friend,” Cass explained calmly, pocketing the device again.  “As I specifically stated for the tape, I am not here in my official capacity as a police officer, or even as a counselor.  I am here as Blake Shelton’s best friend, to hear directly from his cheating wife exactly what her plans are.  And now I know.”

            Gwen plopped onto the sofa, staring at him.  Her face was stark white.  “Cass!  You son of a bitch, you tricked me!  You bastard!”

            “Yes,” he declared, getting to his feet.  “I am.  And this bastard is going to tell you something exactly once, Mrs. Shelton.  Your marriage is over.  Pack your things and get out.  Blake will send you an uncontested divorce with what he and his lawyer feel is a fair settlement.  You will sign it.  Then you will get the hell out of his life and out of this town!”

            “I’m entitled to half of everything!”

            “Not anymore,” Cass declared.  “Not after you admitted you were committing adultery and planned to do so again, and with his best friend!”

            “This is blackmail!”

            “No, this is love!  What Blake and I have between us may not be physical love, but I love him all the same.  And you will never, ever hurt him again!”  Cass turned on his heel, moved to collect his coat, and turned once more.

            Gwen sat where she was, pale-faced, her face wet with tears.  “Cass?” she called quietly.  “You’ve destroyed me.”

            “Yes, because you were going to destroy the most important person in my life,” he snapped.  “And now it’s over.  So for the last time, Mrs. Shelton?  Goodbye!”

            Cass expected, as he stormed out the door to his car and started out, that he’d feel happy, or at least triumphant.  He’d thought that by helping Blake, he could also help himself.  That freeing his best friend from his terrible marriage and letting him to go on with his life would make him feel something.  But as he pulled away, he realized that he felt nothing at all.

            Just the hollow space where he’d once had a heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun thought that last part was sad. Says, "What the hell is wrong with drinking beer, playing poker and watching action movies? That's a great thing to do!" Thinks Gwen was delusional, "but cheaters always are. They always get indignant when they get caught." Cass’s reactions were hilarious because "he’s just so naïve about things!"


	25. One Last Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Adam are called back by Crowley, who makes them an offer they can't refuse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wee, artwork! Got a new piece by my lovely artist, and it's even animated! I linked it into the actual chapter, or you can check it out right here:  
> https://funtimewriter.tumblr.com/post/163005446287/my-artist-is-back-this-time-even-including-some
> 
> By request, here are some pics of the characters used here.
> 
> Detective Blake Shelton:  
> https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/52/e9/e2/52e9e27248faeb66995360c1fbe69d46--wedding-tux-eclectic-wedding.jpg
> 
> Detective Cass Novak:  
> https://vignette2.wikia.nocookie.net/p__/images/c/ce/Castiel-and-supernatural-gallery.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20150207070530&path-prefix=protagonist
> 
> Dean Winchester:  
> http://s11.favim.com/orig/160211/castiel-dean-winchester-jared-padalecki-jensen-ackles-Favim.com-3980881.png
> 
> Adam Levine:  
> https://www.black-leatherjacket.com/image/cache/data/Black-adam-levine-leather-jacket/adam-levine-black-leather-jacket-900x900.jpg
> 
> Chief Carson Daly:  
> https://peopledotcom.files.wordpress.com/2016/08/carson-daly-435-5.jpg?w=435
> 
> Fergus Crowley:  
> http://www.purefandom.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/11/crowley.jpg
> 
> Gwen (Stefani) Shelton:  
> https://is1-ssl.mzstatic.com/image/thumb/Music69/v4/8d/ee/9a/8dee9a91-bc8d-2341-aef4-71fa0783a2fa/source/1200x630sr.jpg
> 
> Agent Sam Winchester:  
> http://figurinepop.com/public/sam2_2.jpg
> 
> Bobby Singer:  
> http://images.buddytv.com/btv_2_600036272_1_590_-1_0_/best--supernatural--.jpg
> 
> You're welcome.

            Both Dean and Adam were flustered and upset when they stormed into Crowley’s office in Hell.  Adam wasted no time.  “Crowley, why did you call us back?  We were almost out of the state!  This is stupid and dangerous!” he began, visibly fighting to remain calm.  “We’re both fugitives and every cop in the state and beyond is looking for us, now they’ve figured out the jobs we’ve been doing.  Twice we almost got caught!  We’ve been hiding out for days, and you know how much I hate camping!  Why the hell would you order us to come back here, right to the one place where the cops know exactly how to control us?”

            “Seriously, what the hell?” Dean added.  “We had to hide Baby because they know to look for her and have been mostly walking when we couldn’t steal a ride.  But our mug shots are everywhere!  We had to hike through giant mosquitos and a shit ton of weeds along back roads for miles to get back here.  We got damned near eaten alive!  Then we had to sneak into town, hiding in bushes!  Look!”  He plucked a bit of vegetation out of Adam’s hair and threw it at Crowley.  “It’s bullshit!  What the hell do you want that you couldn’t just tell us on the damned phone?”

            Crowley appeared unaffected by the two.  “It’s been a week and a half, plenty of time for the two of you to fall out of the public eye,” he announced.  “Now I’ve got another job for you.”

            Both men immediately began yelling in protest.  “We’re not doing it!” Adam exclaimed.  “Go ahead and call your goons in here, beat the shit out of us, and get it over with!  If we get caught again, we’re doing real time, and not even you can get us out of that!”

            “You are doing it,” Crowley corrected calmly.  “It’s the last big job I need you for.”

            “Tough shit.  Get someone else, because we’re not doing it,” Dean announced.  He got up, pulling his friend to his feet.  “C’mon, Adam, we’re out of here.”  He paused, looking at the men who were suddenly blocking the door.  “You guys want to get the fuck out of the way?” he asked, bracing to fight.

            “Oh, by all means, Dean, go,” Crowley said pleasantly.  “If you want to leave, I’ll not stop you.”

            That surprised the pair.  “You made us come all this way and risk our necks, and now you’re ok with us leaving?” Adam asked incredulously.  “Last time I told you no, you beat the shit out of me!  This time, you’re going to just let us go?”

            “No, not at all.”  Crowley made a gesture.

            Immediately, the thugs were in the room.  Dean braced, but found himself ignored as the men grabbed Adam, forcing him, struggling, into one of the chairs in front of Crowley’s desk.  Dean yelled and ran forward, only to be thrown back into the wall.  “Crowley, what the fuck?” he yelled, picking himself up and glaring at the goons standing between him and his friend.  “You just said we could leave!”

            “I said no such thing,” Crowley explained calmly.  “I said I was fine with you leaving, Dean.  But not Adam.  He stays.”

            Adam narrowed his eyes, straining against the men holding his arms, keeping him in the chair.  “What the hell are you saying?”

            “Funny, I don’t recall stuttering.  You’re staying, Adam!  As I said, this is the last big job I need _you_ for.  If Squirrel wants to scurry about clutching his nuts, that’s his business.”

            “The hell did you just call me?”

            “Never mind.  The point, Dean, is that you’re free to go.  I don’t need you, not for this.  But I do need Adam, and he’s not going anywhere.  Adam is doing this job.  That’s not open for debate.”

            Adam angrily kicked at the men.  “What the hell do you want me for?”

            “That’s what we’re about to discuss.  Dean, good luck in your future endeavors.  I’m sure you’ll be hearing from me soon for something I _do_ need you for.”  He waggled his fingers.  “Tootle loo!”

            “Son of a…!”  Dean decked the first thug that pushed him, kicked the second into the wall, and had punched the third in the face before the rest got him down.  Then he was buried beneath a flurry of punches and kicks.  “Get the fuck off of me!” he roared.  “I’m not leaving him behind!”

            “Crowley, stop it!” Adam screamed, straining to reach his friend.  “I’ll do it, stop fucking hitting him!”

            Crowley snapped his fingers, and the attack on Dean stopped.

            Dean rolled over, got to his feet, and wiped the blood off of his mouth.  He glowered at the men and, wincing, plopped into the chair next to Adam.

            Crowley noted this with an amused grin.  “Decided to help, did we?”

            “I’m not leaving Adam,” Dean announced.  “And you knew damned well that I wouldn’t.  You may only need Adam, but you’re obviously planning to use us both.  So why don’t you just tell us what you want?”

            The lawyer smiled and steepled his fingers, tapping the tips together as he spoke.  “The two of you are familiar with the courthouse, I assume?”

            “Yeah, we’ve been in a few of them a time or two, saying the words ‘Your Honor’ and getting mean looks,” Adam grumbled.

            “I mean specifically the courthouse here in Elemental Falls,” Crowley corrected.  “There’s a room on the first floor, the records room.  Obviously, it’s for record storage.  Inside of that room is a large safe that is used to store the most important records.  It’s made of solid steel, three inches thick, and extends from floor to ceiling.  The safe is magnetically sealed, and electronically controlled.  Cutting the power would render it impossible to open the lock for over sixteen hours.  Drilling through it would take nearly as long.  The safe is airtight, accessible only by fingerprint scan, and all but fireproof.”

            “So what would you like us, or more specifically me, to do about it?” Adam asked dubiously.  “That sounds like a job for a professional safecracker, not us!”

            “I haven’t the time nor the resources to contact a professional safecracker,” Crowley snapped.

            “Ok, but if it’s fireproof, then I don’t know what you think I can…”

            Crowley raised a finger.  “I said it’s all but fireproof.  And that is why you’re doing this, Adam.  I might be able to burn through it, given the time, but I need to be seen well away from the scene.  And that leaves just one other salamander with enough fire to pull this off.”

            Adam groaned.  “Dammit, Crowley!  Yeah, I’ve got the fire, but I don’t have the control!”

            “And the one explains the other!  You’ve got more fire in you than even I do, Adam!  So much that you can barely control it, especially when you’re excitable.  Dean’s got a lot less raw fire, but he’s got the control.  He’s got so much control over his own power that he can even help you with yours, and that’s why you work so well together.  Your fathers were the same way, rest their souls.  It’s why John raised the two of you together, and why you’re my best men.”

            “You know, as often as you physically force us to do shit for you, I have to wonder what you do to your worst men?” Dean wanted to know.

            Crowley ignored him.  “It’s sheer, brute firepower that I need right now.  And that is what you do best, Adam!  You’re the only one I’ve got who’s capable of burning through three inches of solid steel, and you’re doing it.  I need everything inside of that safe rendered to fine ash tomorrow night.”

            “Tomorrow night?!”

            “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

            “I assure you,” Crowley said, “this is no joke.  This is Saturday, and those records need destroyed before the courthouse reopens on Monday morning.  I don’t care if you burn down the whole damned courthouse, Adam, as long as you ash those records!”

            “What’s the deal?” Dean wanted to know.

            “Yeah, what’s in those records that’s got you so worried?”

            “It won’t matter when you finish the job,” Crowley growled, suddenly irritated.

            Adam elbowed Dean.  “Me thinks we hit a sore spot.”

            Dean waggled his eyebrows.  “Now I really want to look at those records!”

            “Knock yourselves out,” Crowley snapped.  “If it motivates you to burn down that bloody safe, then do whatever the hell you want.  Just burn it down!”

            “Fine,” Adam snapped back.  “But after this, we’re done!  No more jobs, we take the money you owe us, and we get out of the country!”

            “After this, I’ll have more for you to do,” Crowley declared.  “Just a bit more low-key until the heat dies down.”

            “I thought you said this was the last big job!”

            “It is.  For now.”

            “You know what?  Fuck you!” Dean said.  “You have pulled on our strings and made us dance for you since we were kids, and frankly I’m sick of it!”

            “I agree!” Adam added.  “Honestly, Crowley, if you’re going to fucking make us do even more after this, then my motivation to do this job just disappeared.”

            “He’s right, you know,” Dean agreed.  “We manage to pull this off, you’ve just got more for us to do?”

            “You’ll be well compensated,” Crowley assured.

            But Dean shook his head.  “There’s not enough money in the world to keep doing this shit for you, Crowley.  We’ll think about doing this job.  And we’ll think a lot harder about telling you to suck our cocks!”

            Thunderclouds were gathering on Crowley’s brow.  “You _will_ obey me!”

            “Fuck you!”

            “Yeah, seriously, fuck you!  If you’re just going to keep us on your leash, then why the fuck…?”

            Crowley slammed a fist on his desk.  “I am _Salamander!_ ” he roared.  “I know John rebelled against The Rules and taught you fuck-all about what it really means to be an elemental, but I am your leader!  This is not a democracy, it’s a fucking dictatorship!  You both have salamander spirits.  That means you belong to me, and you _always will!_   You wanted to know what I do to my worst men, Dean?  Not a bloody thing!  Because they know their place!  They know what it means to be salamanders, and they know what my position as elder means!  Didn’t John at least teach you that you’ve nowhere else to go?  You don’t belong anywhere else in the world except with me!  I _own_ you, and once this race for mayor is finished and the scepter handed over that will be doubly true!  The two of you are doing exactly as you are told, and _you are not leaving!_   You don’t ever leave me, not unless it’s in a body bag!  But if you don’t believe me?  If you need an object lesson?  Then I’m happy to give you one.  I’ll start with your mum and everyone else in that nursing home, Levine.  Then I’ll move on to Moose, your not-so-little brother, Winchester, and your mum and your aunt up in New Hampshire.  Yes,” he said, seeing the looks he was getting, “I know exactly where she is!  I’ll take out both of your families!  Then I’ll take out every lover either of you has ever had!  I’ll burn through everyone you’ve ever known, and then, when every last one of them is ashes at your feet and you’re both little more than empty shells of men?”  He spread his hands and smiled.  “Why then, I’ll give you another job!”

            Neither Dean nor Adam said a word.  They were stiff in their chairs, their fists and jaws clenched as they glared at Crowley.  Crowley simply leaned back, folded his hands over his chest, and smiled pleasantly back at them.  And after a bit, his smile grew wider as he saw their shoulders slump, saw them sag in their chairs and their gazes move down.  “There now, I didn’t want to be so strict!” he called.  “I understand these little growing pains you’re going through, and I’m willing to forgive and forget.  Just so long as you always remember your place!”

            No response.  Adam swallowed hard, while Dean’s jaw worked.  Their eyes remained fixed on Crowley’s desk.

            Crowley rose with a friendly smile on his face and reached over the desk to clutch their shoulders.  “Come on, lads, don’t look so glum!  Yes, it’s a dangerous job and there’s a real element of risk here, but you two are professionals!  Do the job and get out of town.  I’ll get you the money and you can lie low and wait for my next call.  Salamanders stick together!  You’re mine, and I’ll take care of you.  Trust me!”

            “Looks like we don’t have a choice,” Dean grumbled.

            “No, you don’t.  Now off you go!  Go stake out that courthouse and figure out the best way to break in by tomorrow night.  I strongly suggest that you disable the fire suppression systems before you do anything else, or this job will be far more difficult than it needs to be.  Now, gentlemen?  Good day!

            The two stood and started towards the door, trying to ignore the snickering of Crowley’s thugs.  But then Adam stopped.  Dean looked back at his friend, and his heart sank.  “Adam?” he called.  “You’re not seriously going to…”

            Adam suddenly whirled and raced back.  He jumped onto the desk, sliding on his knees across it until he had Crowley by the lapel of his expensive suit.  Crowley’s eyes widened in alarm as he drew back.

            And then Dean grabbed Adam and tackled him to the floor.  “What the fuck are you doing?” Adam yelled.  “Get off me, Dean!  I’ll kill that son of a bitch!”

            “You can’t!” Dean grunted, dragging Adam to his feet as the thugs moved to surround them.  “Remember what Dad said?  No matter what, you can’t ever strike the Salamander!”

            “Fuck John Winchester!” Adam screamed.  “I’ll fucking kill you, Crowley!  You go anywhere near our families and you’ll find out just how much fire I really have!”

            “As if a salamander could hurt another salamander with fire,” Crowley sneered.  “Your friend just saved your life!  Now get out!”

            Dean held on tight, dragging his furious friend out until he could shove Adam against the wall next to the Gates of Hell.  “Adam, calm the fuck down!” he ordered.  “I take you up like this, and you’ll burn down this whole town!”

            “Good!”

            “Do you remember how it was when you killed those people, back when your powers first manifested?” Dean reminded.  “Do you remember how it felt?  The way they screamed?  How it _smelled_ when their flesh burned?  Is that what you want?  No?  I didn’t think so.  Now _calm the fuck down!”_

            Maybe screaming in Adam’s face wasn’t the best way for Dean to calm him.  But at least he’d managed to get through to him.  Adam’s hazel eyes went wide and his face grew pale.  His muscles lost their tension as a shudder went through his body.  A low moan passed from his lips.  His fingertips dug into Dean’s arms as he suddenly clutched at him.  “He threatened our families, Dean!  What the hell are we going to do?”

            “The only thing we can,” Dean sighed.  “We’re going to do this job.  Then we gotta sit down and try to find a way to get out from under Crowley’s thumb.  But you can’t attack him.  The only thing Dad was ever afraid of was the Salamander, remember?  There’s a damned good reason for it!”

            Adam squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced.  Then he nodded.  “Alright.  Just get me the fuck out of here.”

            “You sure you’re good?”

            “No,” Adam confessed.  “But I’m good enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun's suggestions and complaints caused this chapter to receive a complete overhaul from the original version and turn out much better!
> 
> His comments here: Glad Adam tried to punch Crowley. Thinks there’s more to being an elder than in just being a regular elemental. Was glad "Dean got to knock a few of those assholes around. They deserved it for what they did to Adam last time."


	26. The Criminal Element

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Adam put their plan into motion. Blake and Cass try to figure things out.

            “I honestly cannot believe how dumb our so-called ‘masterminds’ really are,” Cass mused.  “In their defense, they probably have no idea we know what their phone numbers are, but you’d think that they’d figure out we had some way to track them!  After all, they were almost caught at least twice that we know of now.”

            “I imagine, if they keep having to run the way they’ve been this past week, they’ll get a hint,” Blake said.  “But you know what really blows my mind?  Why the hell would they come back here?  The heat’s on, their mug shots are hanging in every post office, and they’ve been flushed out of God alone knows how many hiding places so far already!  So far, the only reason they’re not in jail is probably because they’re salamanders.  You know they’re using that damned fire trail to escape.  But here?  We know exactly how to counter it!  This is the one place that, if they get caught, they’re actually going to be caught and punished.  And yet they come back!”  He shook his head.  “I never thought I’d say this, but I wish this town had more than one cell tower!”

            “It never works out in real life the way it does on TV, does it?” Cass sighed.  “Best we’ve got is the range of the tower, which means they might not even be actually in town!”

            “But you believe they are.”

            Cass nodded.  “I do.  They always come back here for a reason, and we know now that Levine comes back for his mother.”

            “Yeah.”

            Cass looked up at his partner, catching the way his eyes suddenly softened and grew distant.  “Blake?” he called softly.  “I get it.  Believe me, I get it!  Yes, it’s sweet that they take care of Levine’s mom, but being a good son and his friend doesn’t excuse the crimes they’ve committed.  They’re paying for that nursing home using dirty money, buddy.”

            “Yeah, I know,” Blake sighed.

            Cass watched out the window of the cruiser, but his eyes again moved to his partner.  “She’s all moved out now?”

            “Bag and baggage,” Blake confirmed.  “It’ll take anywhere from one to three months for the divorce to be final.  If I’m honest, I’ll be glad when it’s all over and done with.  But it still hurts.  The stuff that’s still there, the stuff that’s missing, everything reminds me that once upon a time, we had something good.  And no matter what she did in the end, we both failed that marriage.  At least when Ol’ Red was alive, I had the dog to keep me company.  Now I got nothing.”  He smiled.  “Except you, of course.  Damned glad you're around, Cass."

            “I’m just glad I could help.”

            Blake snorted.  “Cass, you did better than help!  You put yourself out there for me and got her to spill everything without ever doing anything to compromise yourself.  That’s one hell of a feat, partner!”

            “It was mostly by accident, like I told you,” Cass corrected, squirming.  “If you ever listen to that tape, you’ll hear how close I came to screwing everything up.  But she just wouldn’t leave me alone, and that’s the only reason it worked out the way it did.”

            “It’s those pretty blue eyes of yours!” Bake declared.  “The ladies can’t resist!”

            “Thanks, I think?”

            Blake smiled, but it soon faded.  “I may listen to that tape someday.  But what you told me, what she said?  That’s enough.  Looking over those transcripts you made up hurt pretty bad, buddy.  And if I listened to the tapes, and actually heard her say that shit?”  He shook his head.  “Our marriage has been gone for a while, but it’s still an open wound.  That’s probably why I keep finding myself looking for comfort, both the good kind and the bad.”

            “The bad kind would have pretty hazel eyes, tattoos, and a criminal record,” Cass guessed.  “But what’s the good?”

            Blake rolled his eyes and punched Cass playfully in the arm.  “You, ya jackass!  You’ve been my rock this whole time, letting me stay at your place until she moved out, getting wasted with me and listening to me talk, letting me sob like a big ol' baby into the shoulder of that damned trench coat of yours…”

            “I didn’t do anything you wouldn’t have gotten from any friend!” Cass protested, squirming again.

            “But I didn’t get it from any friend,” Blake pointed out.  “I got it from you.  Thank you, Cass.”

            Cass smiled.  “You’re welcome.”

****

            Dean walked with his head lowered, one hand in his pocket.  He wore a pair of sunglasses and a baseball cap pulled low to hide his face.  His pace was brisk without being hurried.  Being hurried would attract attention.  Normally, this trick would be all he needed.  But this time, he’d taken some extra precautions in case he was seen.  He wore a hoodie over his jacket, sweat pants over his jeans, and an old pair of sneakers.  He’d also stuffed some cotton balls into his cheeks.  The overall effect was that he appeared far heavier than he was, which would make identification that much more difficult.  As an added touch, he’d neglected shaving, allowing stubble to cover his face, and had darkened his skin with concealer.

            Now that he was out on the streets, he was glad he’d taken the extra precautions to disguise his appearance.  It seemed that every cop in Elemental Falls was out snooping around.  In his walk across town, Dean had already seen two cruisers.  One of them wasn’t even from Elemental Falls.  For some reason, the cops had called in the cavalry from the neighboring town.  That was not a good sign.  Somehow, they had to know that he and Adam were back in town.

            Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything that he could do about it.  He and Adam had spent most of Saturday scouting, looking at the buildings they needed and planning their operation.  Neither of them was comfortable with their hastily-constructed plan.  There were so many elements that needed to come together!  If they did it right they’d be able to get in, do the job, and get back out before anyone realized what was happening.  But if any one of the multiple factors involved went wrong, well, there wasn’t much of a margin for error.

            No time to think about that now.  It was time to get to work.

            He quickly approached his target and glanced around.  No one watching.  Perfect.  Standing so that his actions were shielded, Dean drew a lockpick gun from his pocket, unlocked the door, and went inside, adjusting the pack slung over one shoulder.  He moved quickly, but carefully, keeping his head lowered to let the bill of his hat hide his face from the security cameras as he moved through the empty building.

            Dean quickly ducked into the men’s room, went into a stall, and hung his pack on the hook at the back of the door.  He got into it, finding gloves, a rubber mask of JFK, a pistol, and a plastic container marked “Play-Doh.”  He pulled on the gloves, put on the mask, and picked up the container and pack.

            Showtime.

****

            _“Robbery in progress at Bangor Savings Bank,”_ the radio squawked.

            “Seriously?” Blake exclaimed, starting the car as Cass reached for the radio to acknowledge the call.  “Someone’s actually trying to rob the bank in broad daylight on a Sunday?”

            “At least we’re close,” Cass offered.  “We can take care of this, and then…”

            _“All units, be advised, we have an unconfirmed report of an explosion at Bangor Savings Bank.”_

            “What the hell?  Ok, this is serious.”

            “Blake, maybe we’d better get there a bit quicker?”

            Blake nodded.  “Yeah.  I think you’re right.”

            Sirens and lights on, the cruiser raced for the bank.

            When they arrived, they discovered that what looked like every officer available had already gotten there or was pulling in.  The street was awash in flashing lights and blue uniforms.  Even Carson was there.  Blake and Carson quickly parked and jogged over.

            “No one saw a damned thing!” Carson was complaining.  “The silent alarm was tripped and the security company sent out the call.  They said that the cameras recorded a single unidentified perpetrator inside, but no I.D.  Apparently he hid under a hat until he got inside, then put on a stupid Halloween mask when he got to work.  He took out all the cameras.  And the next sign we had of him was the explosion that did that!”  He indicated the front of the bank, where every window had been shattered.  “Near as we can tell, the perp tried to blow the safe open.  Probably didn’t succeed, and if we’re lucky, he blew himself into little bits we can collect with a broom and dustpan.  At any rate, everyone and his brother-in-law showed up once that explosion happened, and now we’ve got the building surrounded.  If the bastard’s still alive, he’s trapped in there.  But we got no idea where he is, if he’s armed…”

            Shots echoed, and everyone ducked instinctively.

            Carson swore.  “Get your gear on!  We need to find this son of a bitch!”

            “I can find him?” Cass offered.

            Carson clapped him on the shoulder, but was shaking his head.  “If anyone can do it, you’re the one, Cass.  But if you play hide and seek in there and this asshole tries to blow that safe again?”

            Cass grimaced.  “You’re right.  Thank you.”

            “Someone’s gotta look out for you two,” Carson declared.  “Why don’t you both suit up and do a little recon outside instead?  Blake, you got something on your mind?”

            “Maybe,” Blake mused.  His eyes were flickering over the assembled sea of blue in front of the bank.  “C’mon, buddy, let’s suit up and let me think this over.”

            The two detectives quickly returned to their cruiser, where they pulled their riot gear out of the trunk.  Blake remained silent as he put his on, chewing on his lower lip.  Cass put on his own gear.  Then he waited patiently as his partner thought.  A moment later, his patience was rewarded.  “You think there’s anyone at all out on patrol right now?” Blake asked.

            Cass looked around.  “No, not really.  It looks like pretty much everyone’s here.  Even Jonesy’s here, and he worked the night shift!  Why?  Someplace else they should be?”

            “Maybe.”  Blake slammed the trunk shut and turned to his partner.  “Don’t you think it’s strange that the bank gets robbed right when the Fat Boys are back in town?”

            “You think this is them?  But bank robbery doesn’t fit their usual M.O.,” Cass pointed out.  “Winchester and Levine do more dirty work.  The robberies they do aren’t anything like this.  They don’t use explosives, and they don’t use guns.”

            “They did when they robbed Crowley’s campaign H.Q.!”

            “But they used blanks.”

            “Yes, they did.”  Blake’s blue eyes appeared lost in thought as he looked back towards the bank.  “When we arrested them, did they ever get their belongings and whatever shit they had in that Impala inventoried?”

            “No,” Cass grumbled.  “Thanks to one of us, they escaped before that happened.”

            “So they may still have those guns with the blanks.”

            “That’s right.”  Cass watched his partner closely.  “What are you getting at, Blake?”

            “I’m missing something, Cass!” Blake complained.  “Something’s wrong here, but I’m not seeing it.  Help me out?”

            “Well,” Cass began, “if this is Winchester and Levine, it seems only one of them is here.  Didn’t we determine that they always work as a team?”

            “Yes, we did.  So why would they split up?”

            Cass thought about that for a moment.  Then he shook his head.  “I’ll get back to that one.  Right now, I’m questioning why either of the Fat Boys would be stupid enough to get himself trapped inside this building.  They know we’re looking for them, and it would have been simple for them to make a fire trail and go out the back as soon as the first units arrived on scene.  So why stay in the bank?”  Cass straightened suddenly.  “Unless he didn’t!”

            “Cass, he just fired inside the bank!”

            “How do you know that?” Cass asked.  “Because we heard the sound of gunfire?  Blake, those windows in the bank are shattered.  That means any sound inside the bank would be very clear, yes, but so would the sound of blanks being fired _outside_ of the bank.  This street has buildings on both sides, and it echoes like crazy!  How could we be sure of exactly where those shots actually came from?”

            “So you think he’s already out, and fired blanks to make us think he was still inside and armed?” Blake surmised.  “What for?  What’s the game?”

            “There’s one sure thing that would happen.  We’d stay here until we were sure he wasn’t inside.  All of us!  And if every cop’s here, then no one is watching anywhere else.  Blake, he isn’t in there.  I’m sure of it!  This whole thing is a ruse, just a distraction to keep us focused here.  They’re after something else.”

            Blake looked around.  He frowned.  “None of the signs in any of the shops up and down the street are lit up.  Of course, everyone’s outside watching the show here, but what happened to the power?”  He brightened.  “Ah!  Right over there, edge of town.  There’s smoke coming from the transformer.  If that blew, it explains what happened to the power.”

            “Not a coincidence,” Cass declared.  “Now we know why only one of the Fat Boys was inside the bank.  The other one was busy taking out that transformer!”

            “Ok, hit the bank to get the cops’ attention, take out the transformer to take out the power, then what?” Blake asked.

            “Then, hit the real target.”  Cass moved forward and climbed into the car.  “Come on, partner!” he called.  “We need to find out just how much was affected by the power being down.  Because I’m willing to bet that their real target is dark now, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun says he likes that Blake and Cass aren’t fooled. Liked how Blake and Cass worked together to figure this out.


	27. Playing With Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Adam get to work to complete Crowley's job, unaware that Blake and Cass are closing in.

            Dean carefully tamped down the heat in the room, but couldn’t do much to help.  The air shimmered, dizzying.  Oxygen seemed scarce, and the air reeked of the bitter tang of molten slag.  He’d already taken off his disguise, which was back in his backpack.  Now all he could do was anxiously watch Adam as he stood in the center of the room on the second floor.  The wooden handles of the pick and shovel they’d used to break through the floor over the safe were smoldering.  According to the specs they’d looked at for the safe, this was the thinnest part of the safe, only two inches compared to three on the walls.  But the metal alloy was designed to withstand all but the most extreme heat.  Adam had his work cut out for him as he stood over the opening with his hands outstretched, focusing white hot flames on the exposed metal of the safe.  Was he swaying?  Dean quickly trotted in, gently put a hand on his shoulder.  “You ok, buddy?”

            “I’m alright,” Adam replied through gritted teeth.  His face was twisted in effort, and sweat poured down his face.  “Just keep an eye out for any trouble!”

            Dean squeezed his shoulder and moved back out of the room.  He was worried.  Salamanders could withstand extreme heat.  They could walk through flames untouched.  But they still had human bodies, and those human bodies needed the same things other humans needed.  Things like air, and moisture.  Things that Adam was either getting in scarce supply, or rapidly losing through effort.  Maintaining that level of power took power in its own right.  What Adam was doing now was like running up a hill carrying a heavy pack.  It was a near Sisyphean effort, and Dean wasn’t sure how much longer his friend could keep it up.  The worst part was, he couldn’t do anything to help him.  His own fire wasn’t nearly as hot, and would actually make it more difficult to burn through the metal of the safe.  So now, all he could do was keep watch, both for any sign of trouble, and to make sure Adam didn’t pass out.

            Dean didn’t expect that they’d have any trouble.  When he’d been on the roof of the hardware store across the street from the bank to fire the blanks, the street had been thick with the electric blue stench of too many cops in one place.  Even Big Country and Angel Eyes had been there, along with Daly himself.  Dean had been forced to clamp his own hand over his mouth to keep from laughing aloud when the cops had dove for cover.  He’d been lying behind the false front, peering over it to avoid being seen.  But not a single set of eyes had so much as glanced in his direction.

            After that, it was only a matter of going behind the store to jump onto the back of the motorcycle Adam had stolen for a ride to the courthouse.  They’d quickly overpowered the two guards, who had been left bound and gagged in the basement.  And then they’d gone to work on the floor.

            Now it was just a matter of waiting for Adam to burn through the safe.  Dean hated waiting, especially when there was absolutely nothing for him to do while he did it.

            When Adam suddenly stopped, Dean startled for a moment before he realized his friend had finally finished.  An irregular hole smoked in the middle of the floor, while Adam stood next to it, bent over with his hands on his legs, gasping for air.  “Hey, nice job!” Dean cheered, moving quickly into the room.

            “Thanks.”  Adam was swaying on his feet.  His face had gone a sickly shade of grey.

            “Ok, I think you’re done for today,” Dean announced, steering Adam towards the window.  “I can finish up in here.  You’re going to go out to that lovely tree out there and get your bearings back.”

            “I’m not…!”

            But Dean had already slipped an arm around Adam’s waist and sent out the fire trail.  A moment later, he was pushing his protesting friend against the tree.  “Relax,” he ordered.  “Lie down before you fall down.  Here.”  He crouched down, got into his backpack and pulled out a bottle of Gatorade.  Focusing, he drew heat out of the bottle until it was pleasantly cold.  Then he handed it to Adam.  “Hydrate!”

            “Show off,” Adam grumbled, gratefully accepting the bottle.  “We both know how much control you’ve got, Dean!”

            “Says the guy who just slagged a room-sized safe!” Dean retorted, watching with satisfaction as Adam took a drink.  “Drink up and rest a moment.  Once your head stops spinning, start back to camp.  I’ll follow you as soon as I’m done.”  He shook his finger in Adam’s face.  “Do not start walking until you’ve recovered!  So help me, if I find you lying somewhere along the trail because you passed out, I’m going to kick your ass!”

            “I’m not that bad!” Adam protested trying to get up.  His eyes immediately went glassy and, groaning, he fell back against the tree.  “Ok, I’m that bad.  Alright, I get it.  I’ll drink this and rest, and get some air into me.  I’ll be fine in a minute.”

            “Good, then in a minute, you can start walking back.”  Dean gently slapped Adam’s cheek.  “You did real good, buddy!  Now the hard part’s over, and I’ll do the cleaning up.  See you back at camp.”

            Adam grabbed his hand.  “Thanks, Dean.  That really did take it out of me.”

            “Yeah, I know, and frankly, I was worried it would be too much for you.”

            “It almost was,” Adam confessed.  “Towards the end there, I really thought if I had to keep it up much longer I was gonna pass out.”

            Dean looked at his friend.  “You sure you’re alright out here?”

            “I’m fine,” Adam said, waving his concern aside.  “Go get the job done before someone figures out what we’re up to.”

            “Sure thing.”  Dean gave Adam’s hand a squeeze, winked at him, and then took another fire trail back up the side of the building and into the window.

            Back in the room, Dean stood for a moment, looking thoughtfully at the opening Adam had burned through the top of the safe.  Everything directly below the opening would be ash, but the majority of the records along the perimeter might very well have survived even this blistering heat.  Dean took note of the melted metal.  It had funneled slowly down into the safe, forming a cone-shaped opening leading down.  Dean could see shelves down there.  He could use one of them to climb back out if he went down into the safe.  Of course, the records in question had probably already been destroyed by the heat.  But what if that wasn’t the case?  Simply dropping some fireballs into the safe would accomplish his task of burning all the remaining records.  But this might be his one chance to get some real dirt on Crowley, maybe even something that could help the two of them get the leashes off of their necks!

            Dean decided it was worth checking into.

            The metal was hot, even for him.  Dean gingerly climbed down, dropping into the safe.  The heat had caused most of the records to smolder, filling the safe with smoke.  Dean coughed, waving his hand in front of his face in a futile attempt to clear it as he pulled out his cell phone.  Activating the flashlight, Dean quickly looked through the records.

            It would have been much easier if he’d known exactly what it was he was looking for.  The first order of business was figuring out the filing system.  Then he looked under C, only to discover that most of it was charred or ashes.  Well, if anything useful had Crowley’s name on it, it was gone now.  That was disappointing.  Irritated, Dean quickly set the rest of the records on this shelf aflame, and then turned to torch the rest of the room.

            That was when his eyes fell on the shelf at the back of the safe that bore the four elemental crests.

            Dean quickly moved towards the shelf and began to search the salamander records.  He wasted some time trying to figure out how they were sorted.  Then he dug into the most recent.  Here, he found something interesting.  Tearing the record free, he read the information again, his lips moving slightly as he processed it.  Then he paused, eyes distant as he thought.

            Folding the record and stuffing it into the pocket of his leather jacket, Dean moved to another set of records on the shelf.  Once more, he checked the most recent records.

            And this time, he found a bombshell.

            For a long moment, Dean simply stood as he was, frozen, staring at the record.  Then he pinched his lips, tore the record free, folded it, and shoved it into his pocket with the first one.  Snarling, he threw the remaining records at the shelf, created a large fireball, and blasted the entire shelf.  He turned, venting his fury on the records until they were all ablaze and the safe was so full of smoke Dean couldn’t stop coughing.  He grabbed one of the shelves he’d just set on fire, set it up beneath the opening in the ceiling, and used it to create a fire trail up and out.

            Back in the room above, he caught his breath and considered his options.  Adam.  His friend needed to know what he’d just discovered.  Dean estimated that at least half an hour had passed while he’d been in the safe.  By now, Adam should have started out.  Well, it wouldn’t be hard to catch up to him.

            Dean headed for the window, and that was when he saw that it was closed.

            Dean narrowed his eyes, looking at the window.  He was sure he’d left it open when he’d come back inside after leaving Adam.  Rule number one of breaking and entering, as dictated by his father, was “always leave your escape route open.”  Something was wrong.

            Dean had a feeling he knew what it was.

            He moved to the window, careful not to let himself get silhouetted in it, and carefully peered out from the side.  Sure enough, there was a cop in full riot gear outside, “Elemental Falls Police” stamped across the back.  His eyes flicked anxiously to where he’d left Adam, but Adam wasn’t there.  Had he started back already, or was he in custody?  No way to tell.  Either way, Dean was on his own.

            His hands immediately moved to his pocket, to the records he’d stolen.  Moving quickly, he jogged silently into the next room, pulling the door closed behind him with a soft click.  It was an office.  Dean looked around, climbed up onto the desk, and carefully lifted up a pane of the drop ceiling.  He secreted the records into it, replaced the panel, got down and carefully cleaned his footprints off of the desk.

            With his prizes secure, Dean went back out.  Moving through the smoke-filled room and ignoring the flames that licked through the opening, Dean opened the opposite door and peeked into the hall.  Empty.  Maybe he still had time?

            Dean moved out into the hall, heading towards the side of the building.  He’d only seen one cop outside, which meant there was still a chance he might be able to slip out.  But he didn’t dare risk a fire trail now, not with Elemental Falls cops on the scene.  His father had warned them about the police in this town.  They were all corrupt.  They all had an unreasonable hatred of salamanders.  And worst of all, they were all undines.  The Undine patrolled the town with a force made up entirely of his own people.  Little wonder they had cuffs warded against salamanders!

            But it wasn’t the cuffs Dean was worried about now.  As a salamander, he was weakest against water.  That meant that the undine water element could counter almost anything he could do.  If he tried a fire trail and one of them hit him with their water, well, that would cause some serious problems, maybe even kill him.  He’d have to find another way out.

            He brightened as he spotted the emergency exit.  Maybe, if he took the stairs, he could…

            He had no idea where the cop had come from, but suddenly, Dean was grabbed from behind and shoved against the wall.  “Freeze!” a muffled voice ordered.  “You’re under arrest for breaking and entering!  You have the right to remain…”

            Dean dropped down into a spin, trying to sweep the legs of the cop behind him.  But the cop somehow anticipated his move.  He threw himself nimbly sideways into a neat cartwheel made even more impressive because he’d done it in full riot gear, helmet and all.

            Dean charged after him, trying to keep him off balance.  He swung, and the cop bent backwards into a backflip that brought up his feet to impact Dean’s chin.  Stars flashed before his eyes for a moment.  He staggered, and the cop was back, coming after him in a flurry of punches and kicks that forced Dean to fall back into another office and slam the door.

            Great.  Not only was this an undine cop, he was also Jackie Chan!  Dean shook his head to clear it.  Then he opened the door and stepped back.

            Nothing happened.

            Dean carefully peeked out and was nearly rewarded with another punch in the face as Jackie, standing just to the left of the door, took a swing at him.  With a yell, Dean grabbed his arm, dragged him into the room, and sent him flying.  Jackie fucking Chan went ass over teakettles into the room.  Dean charged after him.

            To his amazement, Jackie rolled onto his feet and immediately countered with a charge of his own.

            “Oh, it’s on now!”  Dean had trained in martial arts under his father since he was a child, but this guy was damned good.  They traded punches and kicks, moving around the room and each other.  And before long, Dean began to realize the truth.  He was about to lose this fight.  Jackie Chan was just too damned good, and Dean was being forced back, step by step, until he was finally forced back against the wall.  “Son of a bitch!”

            “Give it up, Winchester,” Jackie advised, finally pausing his attack.  “You can’t win this!  Surrender peacefully and let me take you in, and it will help at your trial.”

            Dean’s lips curled back into a snarl.  “Fuck you, undine!”  Dean quickly created a fireball, and exploded it.

            It shouldn’t have been more than a hindrance.  Dean had only intended to knock Jackie back, give himself a little room to regroup.  But Jackie cried out in pain as he flew backwards.  Once on the ground, he cradled his arm against his chest and doubled over.

            “Shit!  Why the hell didn’t you counter it?” Dean exclaimed, running forward.  “Whoa, calm down!”

            Jackie yelped in pain as Dean touched his arm.  “Stop!  Don’t burn me anymore!”

            Dean sputtered.  “I didn’t…!”

            “Get the hell away from him!”

 

            Dean looked up just in time to get a wall of water in the face, knocking him off of his feet and sending him rolling across the floor.  Another cop in riot gear had just run into the room.  His body appeared to be covered with a shallow coating of water.

            Cursing, Dean scrambled to get up.  But the water beneath his feet suddenly turned to ice.  Dean slipped, and was on his ass again.

            And then the new undine was on him, straddling him.  He balled up one fist and sent it crashing into Dean’s face.  “That’s for messing up my chances of finally having something good in that damned alley!” he announced.  He punched Dean again.  “That’s for breaking my partner’s heart and nearly wrecking his career!  And this?”  A third punch, this one far harder than the first two.  “That’s for fucking my wife!”

            “Shelton,” Dean groaned.  His head was swimming, but he wasn’t done yet.  He brought his hands together and swung them at Blake.

            Or he tried to.  Jackie Chan was back up.  He was only using one arm, but he was helping Blake pin him.  And then the icy cold handcuffs were back on, and it was all over.

            “Why did you do it?” Blake asked, letting his watery armor fall away and dragging Dean to his feet.  “Why did you hurt Cass?”

            “Cass?”  Dean glanced at Jackie and saw him struggle out of his helmet, revealing that he was, indeed, Cass.  But Cass’s handsome face was red, the redness moving down his neck and disappearing under his collar.  He still held one arm clutched to his chest.

            Blake gave Dean a harsh shake, bringing his attention back.  “Why did you hurt him?  Don’t you know what you’ve done?  You’ve broken The Rules!  You used your powers to intentionally harm another person!  Now you’ll face Final Justice!”

            Dean blinked in confusion.  “Final Justice?  Rules?  What rules?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun says he called it, that Blake and Cass couldn’t be just regular cops. Wants to know what Dean found. Liked seeing the undine powers. Says Cass is actually a ninja!


	28. Burned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake takes Cass to the hospital for treatment of his injuries, and the two of them report to Carson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Some medical stuff ahead. I've been a nurse so long I didn't even consider that this could trigger until Mr. Fun started yelling "EEEEWWWW!" and making a face. Sorry about that! Also trigger warnings, please mind the tags. This chapter gets a bit dark.

            _The heat of the pavement could be felt through the soles of Blake’s boots as he crouched, staring down into the lifeless eyes of the young man in his arms.  Too late.  He’d known when he’d arrived that he was too late.  The gas station was a broken, twisted mass of charred bricks and broken bits of metal and glass.  The gasoline tanks were still blazing and would for some time, filling the air with a stench that still couldn’t quite cover the smell of roasted flesh.  When Blake had come in, he’d seen the first body.  It lay on the pavement like a rag doll tossed by a careless child, broken limbs bent at impossible angles and looking like raw charred hamburger.  But when the young man had groaned, when Blake had suddenly realized that someone had survived the inferno at the gas station, he couldn’t help but try to heal him.  He’d known it was hopeless.  Not even the Undine himself could heal burns this severe.  Still, it had been a blow when the pain-filled eyes had gone blank, when the youth had taken one last shuddering breath and then gone still._

_“Detective Shelton!”_

_Blake tore his gaze away from the body and saw the uniformed police officer standing near him.  Novak’s blue eyes were wide and solemn.  “I’m here to help, Sir,” he announced._

_“Novak, what the hell are you doing out on the street?” Blake barked, probably harsher than he should as he let the body gently down.  “We’ve got protocols for emergencies like this, you know!  The undines who aren’t officers on duty are in their assigned locations to protect civilians.  You need to get to one of those shelters so they can protect you, too!  Milligan’s gone completely off the reservation, and this is no place for…”_

_“I may not be an undine, Sir, but I am an officer on duty in Elemental Falls,” Cass declared.  “As such, I cannot meekly hide in a shelter while every other officer on duty and most of those who aren’t are spread out all over town searching for Milligan!”_

_Blake narrowed his eyes.  “Novak, I don’t have time for this!  You need to…”_

_Cass held up a hand.  “I know that none of you have ever really thought much of me.  I know you all think I’m not really fit to be an officer.  I’ve heard the whisperings, alright?  I know you all think I was only hired because of my family’s political connections, and I’m sure you’d rather be with one of your undine buddies.  But I am an officer!  I’m here, on the clock, on duty!  It’s my job to protect and serve the people of my town, and I’m responding to the scene to offer assistance.”_

_“Dammit, Cass!  Would you look around?”  Blake spread his arms, indicating the burning wreckage.  “This isn’t a drill!  People have died, and more may follow unless we get this guy under control.  I do not have time to babysit you!”_

_“Then don’t!” Cass retorted.  “I can take care of myself, Detective.  I’m refusing to report to the shelter and you don’t have time to try to force me!  I don’t have undine powers, but I do have one thing that most of you don’t!”_

_“And that would be?”_

_“Knowledge.  I know the suspect.  Adam Milligan lived just a few houses down from me while I was growing up.  I know him, and I know the people who died here today.  I think I understand what happened, and you’re making a mistake.  You’re looking at this entire situation all wrong, and I can help you!  Don’t send me away!  Let me help, Detective!”_

_Blake had stood up, fully intending to order the young officer to seek shelter.  But something in Cass’s eyes, the determined expression, and the set of his shoulders held his tongue.  Blake nodded.  “Alright, Novak.  Where do you think he’s gone?”_

_“Singer’s Salvage Yard,” Cass replied.  Despite the situation, his eyes had brightened and a slight smile turned his lips.  “With respect, Sir, I don’t believe that this is a rampage.  I know this guy.  He’s not a firstborn, so I doubt anyone thought to teach him about salamander powers.  Today was likely the first time his powers manifested.  I think something happened here that set him off, but if he was on a rampage, he would have moved right down this street, setting fires left and right.  Instead, he hasn’t done a thing since leaving here!  I think he’s scared, not angry.  He’ll be looking for comfort.  That means he’s looking for Bobby Singer.  He doesn’t have much of a relationship with his mother, but Singer is the closest thing he’s ever had to a father, and the two of them are close.  He’s there, Sir, I’m sure of it.”_

_“Drop the ‘Sir,’ you’re making me feel old.  It’s just Blake,” Blake corrected, moving to get into Cass’s car.  “And you may be right.  Let’s find out.  But you know, don’t you, what will happen?  Right now, he’ll have to stand before the Council of Elders.  But if he hurts someone else with his powers…”_

_“I understand Final Justice, S- Blake,” Cass replied.  “And thank you.  For letting me help.”_

_“Thank me if you don’t get killed.”_

_Of course, Cass had been right.  And despite his danger, he’d never flinched, never backed down.  He’d stayed at Blake’s side during the confrontation with Milligan, even after the rogue salamander had exploded the gunpowder in their weapons.  And in the end, it had been Cass who had assisted Blake in carrying out Final Justice._

_In Blake’s eyes, Cass Novak was the bravest man he’d ever met._

****

            Blake dragged himself out of his memories and held his partner’s hand, wincing at how hard Cass was squeezing as the doctor carefully cut off his shirt and tended to his wounds.  The burns weren’t as severe as those Cass had received fighting with Adam Milligan, but these covered a larger area.  He’d been twisted slightly to the side during his battle with Winchester.  As a result, the burns covered most of his left arm, part of his side, his chest to his sternum, and his back to his scapula.  The flesh was red and blistered, especially on his arm where he’d borne the brunt of the damage.  His neck and part of his face appeared sunburned, but at least the burns there were only first degree, lacking blisters.  Still, the whole thing looked very painful.  Cass had his eyes squeezed shut, using his meditation techniques to try to deal with the pain and squeezing Blake’s hand.  Personally, Blake believed more in good old fashioned morphine.  They’d offered some to his partner, but Cass had refused.  Blake couldn’t help but wonder if maybe that was a decision he’d come to regret?

            “Alright, Mr. Novak, we’ve gotten the last of the shirt material out of your burns,” the doctor announced.  “The worst should be over now, but are you sure you won’t reconsider pain medication?”

            Apparently, the doctor’s mind was on the same path as Blake’s.  Still, Cass shook his head.  “I don’t want you to drug me,” he announced quietly.  “Just do whatever you have to do.  I’ll be fine.”

            “Alright.  We’re going to start to heal this now, and that’s going to cause more pain,” the doctor explained.  “Afterwards, the damaged skin will peel off, much like a sunburn, but considerably more messy.”

            “I remember last time, the big thick chunks of skin,” Cass recalled.

            “This time it won’t be quite so bad.  The worst of the burns here are only second degree.  You’re very lucky.”

            “You’re damned lucky!” Blake grumbled.  “But we’ll talk about it later.  Doc, I’m happy to help with healing him?”

            “As am I.”

            Blake looked up and saw Carson standing in the doorway.  Cass smiled.  “I’d be grateful.”

            “If the two of you are going to help him, then there’s no need for me,” the doctor announced.  “Should be a pretty straightforward tissue regeneration.  Call if you need anything or have any problems.”  She inclined her head respectfully at Carson.  “Undine.”

            “Thank you, doctor.”  Carson patted the undine doctor as she stepped out.  Then he moved to Cass.  The skin around his eyes crinkled as he took in the detective’s wounds.

            “It’s not bad,” Cass said.

            “That’s only by the grace of God!” Blake announced.  “Cass, I love you, brother, but I’d also like to wring your neck!  What the hell were you thinking, going after a known salamander when I wasn’t even in the building?”

            “He was heading towards an exit,” Cass explained.  His eyes were still closed as he focused on controlling his pain.  “I didn’t want to take the chance he would be able to escape again.”

            “Cass, be honest,” Carson urged.  “This is the same guy you had your other trouble with.  Do you think it’s possible that you were looking for a little redemption, maybe even some payback?”

            Cass’s eyes finally opened, fixing on Carson.  “You’re right, of course,” he sighed.  “Winchester took a lot of my self-respect with him when he escaped.  I wanted a chance to win some of it back.”  His eyes moved to Blake, large and blue and full of remorse.  “I’m sorry, Blake.  I should have called you to intercept rather than engaging the way I did.”

            “I’m just upset you got hurt is all,” Blake sighed.  “Carson, let’s fix him up, huh?  You ready, buddy?”

            Cass nodded, closing his eyes again.  Carson moved closer, gingerly lifting Cass’s injured arm while Blake’s hands rested on his partner’s shoulder.  A film of water spread from their hands, lapping across the injured flesh, and Cass let out his breath in a hiss as the injured tissues started to mend and his healing nerves registered the damage.  But other than this and a tightening of his jaw, Cass was perfectly still, letting the two undines heal his wounds.  A moment later, he sighed in relief.  “The best part about living in Elemental Falls is the hospital,” he declared.  “It’s the only place in town with more undines than the police station.  And yet, it’s the two of you who waste your time healing me!  Thank you.”

            “Healing my men after they’re injured in the line of duty is never a waste of time, so don’t mention it,” Carson said.  “Just don’t bother calling me if you’ve got a hangover.”  His eyes flicked over Cass’s face and neck.  “Well, you’re not as cute as you were, and you’re going to look like an alligator when this dead skin starts coming off, but you’ll recover.  Now let’s talk about what happened today.  When you left, all you said was that you were following up on a hunch.  Obviously it paid off.  So explain your hunch, and then tell me what happened after you left.”

            The two explained what they’d puzzled out.  Then they described how they’d driven through the town, checking out businesses that didn’t have power.

            “When we got to the courthouse and saw that Earl and Dan weren’t in the security booth, we got worried,” Cass said.  “When we checked it out, the doors were locked, but there was an open window on the second floor.  When I went in, I realized that the suspect had burned through the floor into the walk-in records safe on the first floor, and was currently down in the safe.”  He made a face.  “I probably shouldn’t have shut the window.  At the time, I was thinking that it would slow him down, give us a chance to capture him.  But it made the room fill up with smoke so fast I couldn’t stay in it.  Rather than cough and give away my position, I moved back out of the room.  I was barely out of the room before Winchester came up from the safe.”

            “That was when he sent me a text and told me he was inside, about to confront the suspect,” Blake added.  “I was ready to wring his scrawny neck right then, but couldn’t say anything because he was about to engage and I couldn’t give away his position!”

            “And that’s when you engaged the suspect?” Carson asked Cass.

            “That’s correct.  He’s got some skill with martial arts, but I’m confident I would have beaten him if he hadn’t used his salamander powers,” Cass said.  “And even then, Carson, I don’t think he intended to hurt me.  He seemed surprised when I was injured, asked me why I didn’t counter it.  Honestly, I think he believed I was an undine.”

            “He’s from the area, so that makes sense,” Blake added.

            “He still intentionally used his powers to attack you, Cass,” Carson pointed out.  “Anyway, you got there just after Winchester attacked him, Blake?”

            “And I finished what Cass had already started,” Blake confirmed.  “He’s right.  If the little bastard hadn’t used his salamander powers, Cass would have kicked his ass!”

            “I believe that’s the only reason he used his powers,” Cass insisted.  “Dean didn’t intend…”

            Carson’s eyebrows shot up.  “Dean?”

            Cass squirmed.  “Winchester, the suspect.  I don’t believe he intended to harm me.”

            “He intentionally used his powers, and he did harm you,” Carson said.  His voice was gentle as he watched Cass.  “I would have thought, after the shit he pulled, you would understand that, Cass.  The ruling of the Council of Elders was very clear.  Winchester has a history where he either intentionally or accidentally lost control of his powers, resulting in a loss of life.  Following that, he’s been implicated in a number of arsons.  He’s obviously rogue, and the Council ruled that if he refused to obey The Rules or used his powers to harm anyone else, he would face Final Justice.”

            “He didn’t know The Rules!” Cass exclaimed.

            “Cass is right,” Blake agreed.  “He had no idea what we were talking about, and we didn’t have time to explain.  By the time we got him downstairs, our back-up was already pulling in.  They took Winchester back to the station while I brought Cass here for treatment.”

            “And as I have already said, I don’t believe he intended to hurt me,” Cass added.  “He only used his powers because I was beating him, and he was surprised when I was injured.  This wasn’t intentional injury!”

            “Cass, are you honestly trying to tell me that he didn’t know a fiery explosion practically in someone’s face wouldn’t cause injury?”

            “He thought I was an undine!”

            “Even we can be hurt by a salamander’s fire if we’re not prepared to counter it,” Blake pointed out gently.

            Cass’s eyes grew wide as he looked at Blake.  “Blake, he didn’t mean to hurt me, and he didn’t know The Rules.  If I hadn’t gone in there alone, if I’d waited for you to support me like I should have done, he might never have used his powers!  We could have taken him down as easily as we did in the end and no one would have gotten hurt.  He’s facing Final Justice because of my mistake!”

            “Cass?” Carson called.  “This was not your fault.  Winchester made the decisions that got him into this situation, not you.  He’s got a record a mile long because he’s been a criminal all his life.”

            “Because a criminal abducted and raised him!  Him and Levine both!”

            Carson snapped his fingers.  “Ah, that reminds me.  Levine.  I looked back over those records for the two of them this past week, and I noticed something.  As Agent Winchester pointed out, the telltale signature of all their arson cases is the single large point of origin.  But looking over those arsons, most of them have at least two of those points.  What are the chances that Winchester’s not our only rogue salamander here?  Didn’t Levine’s family come from here, too?”

            Blake opened his mouth to answer, but Cass replied first.  “There’s no tangible evidence that Levine’s got any salamander powers,” he said quickly.  “You saw the tape from when they escaped.  Winchester used a fire trail, got Levine, and then took him out through the ventilation system.  If Levine was a salamander, why would Winchester have to carry him out like that?  We should have seen two fire trails, not one!”

            “True, very true.”  Carson rolled his lips into his mouth.  “Unfortunately, that makes an even stronger case against Winchester.  Sorry, Cass.  I know you had feelings for the guy, and it seems like you still do.  But he’s facing Final Justice for his crimes, as per the decision of the Council.”

            “Crowley’s ok with that?” Cass wanted to know.  “The Salamander got pretty upset about Milligan, and he already represents both Winchester and Levine!”

            “He grumbled about it, but I think the backlash the salamanders got after Milligan was enough to sway him,” Carson said.  “The vote was unanimous.  Winchester will face Final Justice.”

            Cass appeared to wilt.  Blake squeezed his shoulder.  “Do you want to be there, buddy?  When they take him to the falls?”

            “No,” Cass said.  “I don’t want to be anywhere near it.  I just want to go home, maybe take some time off, and try to forget this whole thing ever happened.”

            “Then I’ll do the same,” Blake offered.  “That ok, boss?”

            “Why don’t you both take a few days?” Carson suggested.  His voice was soft, and his eyes were fixed on Cass as he hunched on the exam table.  “I’ll take care of Winchester.  Recover, let yourselves heal, and then we’ll focus on finding Levine.  I suspect, without his partner and with the heat on, that he won’t run for much longer.”

            Blake felt a chill go up his spine.  He forced his emotions back and forced a smile to his face.  “Thanks, Chief.”

            “What about Agent Winchester?” Cass wanted to know.  “He’s next of kin, so he’ll need to be notified afterwards.  Has he called, asked about his brother?”

            “I haven’t heard a peep out of him since he left Elemental Falls,” Carson said.

            “Oh.”

            Blake frowned, not liking the way Cass had said that or the expression on his face.  “Cass, do you want me to stay with you?  Or you could come over to my place?”

            “I just want to be alone for now, Blake.”

            “I’m going to ask you flat-out,” Carson said.  He moved closer, took Cass’s shoulders.  “Are you going to do anything to hurt yourself?  After Justin…”

            “It wasn’t a suicide attempt!” Cass snapped, uncharacteristically cross.  “I took too many sleeping pills and my sister panicked when she came to check me and couldn’t wake me up.”

            “Cass, that wasn’t a little overdose,” Blake reminded.  “You took almost an entire bottle of sleeping pills that night!  How about I take you home, and…”

            “I’ll be fine.  I just want to be alone, alright?  Now back the fuck off of me!  I’m not a child, so stop treating me like one!”

            Both men drew back from Cass.  “Alright, buddy,” Blake said.  “But I’m coming over first thing in the morning to check on you, and if you feel the urge to hurt yourself in any way…?”

            “I won’t hurt myself!  That’s half the reason I didn’t want pain medication.  I  shouldn’t have taken all those sleeping pills, but it was that one time, and I wasn’t trying to hurt myself.  I just wanted to sleep!  I was in a bad place, alright?  But I got rid of them all after that, I haven’t touched them since, and I don’t plan to take anything now.”  Cass climbed down off of the exam table.  “I’m going home.  Thank you for healing me.”  Then he stormed out the door without looking back.

            Carson looked after him, pinching his lips together into a tight line.  When his eyes turned to Blake, Blake nodded.  “I’ll get out the spyglasses and peek in his windows tonight.  And I’ll be knocking on his door before the sun comes up tomorrow.  If I so much as see a vitamin bottle in his hand, I’ll pounce on him.”

            “There’s not much else we can do,” Carson sighed.  “Cass is a good detective, but his personal life has been and remains an ongoing problem.  I’m just glad he’s got you to look out for him, buddy.”

            “Least I can do for him.  That’s my best friend, and I love him like a brother.”  He paused.  “When will you take Winchester to the falls?  Tomorrow morning?”

            “Tonight, actually,” Carson sighed.  “I’m not giving him another chance to escape, and I think Cass needs this to be over.  I think we all do.  We were just healing up after Milligan, and now this!”

            “Thanks for coming to check on him.”

            Carson looked insulted.  “You guys are more than just employees to me, Blake.  You know that!”

            “I do, and it means a lot.”  He pulled the other man into a bear hug.

            “Oof!  Dammit, Blake!” Carson laughed, struggling.  “Take care, big guy.”

            “You, too.”

            Blake waited until Carson had gone.  Then he pulled out his phone and dialed Cass.  It rang so many times that, at first, he thought Cass wouldn’t answer.  But he finally did.  “Cass, you know Levine’s a salamander, too,” Blake began.  “When we put the runed cuffs on those two, they both thought they were freezing cold.  Those runes would only react to salamanders.”

            “I know that, Blake.”

            “Then why did you lie to Carson?”

            “I didn’t lie to Carson.  I said there was no tangible evidence that Levine was a salamander, and there isn’t.  The runed cuffs aren’t admissible in court, so the fact they felt cold to Levine isn’t tangible evidence.”

            “Why are you doing this, Cass?”

            “So at least one of them gets a chance!” Cass exclaimed over the phone.  “These two were kidnapped and raised by a rogue who never taught them The Rules and brought them into a life of crime.  That’s all they know.  Now one of them is going to die for what they were never taught?  It’s bullshit, Blake!  It’s wrong!”

            “Cass, the Council…”

            “To hell with the Council!  These two need instruction, mentoring, not Final Justice!  And if Levine can keep his head down, stay off of the radar?  I don’t know, maybe Crowley can reach him, or even you and I could find him, sit him down, and tell him what he should have been told long before his powers manifested!  His friend is dying because the bastard who kidnapped him was inexcusably negligent in their education as elementals, and it’s completely, utterly _wrong!”_   He sighed deeply.  “Listen, I can’t talk about this anymore, alright?  Just leave me alone.”

            The phone went dead.

            Blake pocketed the phone and headed out.  But he couldn’t stop thinking about what Cass had said.

            The Council of Elders had considered the evidence against Winchester.  They’d made their decision.  That’s what they were for, wasn’t it?  To make the tough decisions like this and keep the peace among the elementals.

            Still, Blake couldn’t get past the confusion on Winchester’s face.  It wasn’t an act.  Winchester hadn’t known about The Rules that he’d broken.  And now he would pay for that ignorance with his life.  The fact that Levine was an elemental too and likely just as guilty as his friend didn’t matter.  If it was Adam who was going to die tonight…

            Once again, the chill went up Blake’s spine.  He remembered the two of them in the bar, Adam’s voice.  How he smelled.  How good it felt to hold him, kiss him.  How well the two of them got along.  Adam understood him.  He’d been going through the same pain as Blake, and the two of them had reached out to comfort each other.  That night, Blake could have happily thrown everything away just to be with Adam.  If it had been Adam that was facing Final Justice, would he, Blake, be able to help carry it out?  What would the world be like without Adam in it?  Somehow, he thought it would be just a bit darker, colder.  Thinking about it, Blake understood how Cass must feel.

            The elementals had their traditions, and those traditions had kept the peace, kept them all safe for centuries.  A rogue elemental put them all at risk.  That was why The Rules were in effect.  It wasn’t like Winchester was being framed.  He’d made the choices that had landed him in this situation all on his own.  Now the Council had made its decision, and that decision was final.  Winchester would go to the falls tonight.  That’s what was best for everyone.

            Wasn’t it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun thinks Crowley needs to go to the falls, but they shouldn’t kill him right away. Maybe torture him for a few hours, or days. Was cool to see that the undines could heal.


	29. Trial By Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean faces Final Justice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very dark chapter ahead, mind the tags! Be safe, luvs.

            Dean choked and gasped for air, trying desperately to clear the water enough to breathe.  But it kept coming, splashing again and again against his face, soaking him and chilling him like he’d never been chilled before.  “Stop!”

            “Oh, come on, hot stuff!  Don’t you like to play in the water?”

            “Just giving you a nice little bath, right?”

            Cheers and laughter.

            _They’re going to drown me,_ Dean thought as he choked again.  _They’re actually going to drown me on dry land, right here in the police department!_

            His hands and feet had long ago gone numb as he lay on the ice.  His body throbbed from a combination of cold and repeatedly slamming against the walls and floors in the shower room.  There was no doubt that, assuming he survived this, Dean would have bruises all over.

            Dean pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, trying to keep his face out of the swirling water.  Yet another heavy wave washed over him, slamming him against the wall.  Once more, he slipped on the ice and went back down.

            Loud laughter echoed through the shower room.

            Dean hadn’t been surprised that the runed handcuffs hadn’t been removed when he’d been shoved for a second time into a holding cell.  The only thing they’d done was lock his hands in front of him, rather than behind.  But Dean knew he wouldn’t be getting out of them so easily this time.  He hadn’t seen Novak, or even Shelton, since they’d handed him over to the uniformed cops back at the courthouse.  The cops, in turn, had been quick to lock him back in his cell.  But he hadn’t been locked in for more than ten minutes before three cops showed up to take him to the shower room.  Now eight undines, the three cops, two older men, another man and two women in civilian dress, were having quite the sport with the helpless salamander.

            The first thing they’d done was create a sheet of wet ice over the floor of the shower room.  Then they’d shoved Dean onto it.  And that was when it had begun.  The powerful undines had started taking turns torturing Dean with their powers.  There were cresting waves that a surfer would love, tidal waves that went from floor to ceiling, a variety of twisting, turning waves that danced about in a watery ballet, and even a miniature water tornado that had thrown Dean mercilessly about and sent him slamming into the wall.  No other elemental could control their powers like an undine could.  There was no escape.  All he’d been able to do was struggle to breathe and pray that it would end before it went too far.

            “Heeeeeeeere lizard lizard lizard!” someone called in a bad fake Mexican accent.  “Come on, now, get up!  The fun’s just starting!”

            Dean coughed, spat water.  “Fuck you!  You’re gonna kill me!”

            “Oh, don’t mind him, boys!” one of the older men advised.  “He’s just a little wet behind the ears.”

            More laughter.  Dean’s body shook from cold.  He managed to get back up to his hands and knees against the wall.  Then he glared at the undines.  “Bunch of fucking cowards!” he snarled, panting.  “Eight on one with my hands cuffed and my powers blocked, you’re real tough, aren’t you?  Let me go and face me one on one, and then we’ll see how tough you are!”

            A mocking chorus of “Ooooo!” rose from the undines.

            “Boy, you don’t seem to understand,” the other elder said pleasantly.  “You came into our town and started trouble, right when there was an FBI agent here?  That doesn’t just affect you, or even just your fellow salamanders.  That affects us all!  You put every elemental in this town at risk, and you’re gonna pay for it!  Whose turn is it now, boys and girls?”

            “Mine!” one of the cops called.  He gestured with his hand.

            Dean was able to manage another breath before the water hit him again.  His position kept most of his body off of the ice and let him brace, to a point, against the wall.  But the water churned and swirled around him, battering at his already-battered form until it finally abated.  Once more, he gasped for air while his tormentors cheered and laughed.

            “You know what I want to know?” one of the women asked.  “Why is it that every time an elemental goes rogue, it’s almost always a salamander?”

            “Because they’re all a bunch of damned hot heads, that’s why!  Janice, your turn!  Get creative, would you?  I’m starting to get bored.”

            “Ok, how about this?”

            Suddenly Dean was inside of a globe of water, like an insect trapped in a drop of rain.  He held his breath, waiting for it to disperse.  But it didn’t, and the need for oxygen quickly grew.  He tried to crawl out of the globe, but it moved with him, keeping him submerged.  Desperate, he thrashed and struggled, sliding and falling on the wet ice as his lungs screamed for air.  It went on and on until Dean felt himself slipping into unconsciousness before it suddenly collapsed.

            Dean collapsed as well, lying on the ice with his eyes closed, shaking and gasping for breath while the appreciative undines cheered and congratulated Janice.  His body was so weak now from pain, cold, and oxygen deprivation that he didn’t have the strength to get back up off of the ice.  _Now they’ll finish me for sure!_

            “Nice, Janice!  Damn, did you see him dance?”

            “That was great!  He looked like a goldfish in a bowl!”

            “Not so hot now, are you punk?  That was the best one yet!  Who’s next?”

            “It’s John’s turn.”

            “You guys, I got a great idea!  John, can I skip your turn?”

            “Sure, but it better be good!”

            “Oh, it will be!  Watch this!”

            Dean curled up into a ball, gasped as much air into his lungs as he could, and waited for the water to hit him.

            “What are you doing?” a new voice exclaimed.  “Stop this at once!”

            Dean blinked his eyes open and saw the scowling face of Chief Carson Daly as he stood glaring at Dean’s tormentors.

            “Aw shit, here comes the party pooper.”

            “Come on, Daly!”

            “Come on, nothing!” Daly snapped.  “Enough of this!”

            “We’re just showing this damned lizard what we do to elementals who break The Rules and put the rest of us and our families at risk!”

            “It’s the only way to make them understand.  Elementals police their own!  You know that, Daly.  We’re just giving him an education!”

            “In fact, why don’t you have a turn at this damned lizard?”

            “Yeah!”

            “Show us what you got, Chief!”

            Daly’s eyes moved to Dean.  They grew hard as they took in the sight of the battered, half-drowned salamander and filled with anger as they returned to the undines.  “Would you look at him?  He’s covered in bruises, he looks half-frozen, and his lips are blue!  What you’re doing isn’t education, it’s torture!  And if you keep it up, you’re going to end up killing him right here in this shower room at the police station!  Is that what you want?”

            That quieted the undines.  They frowned and shifted, looking anywhere but at Daly.

            Daly waved his hand, and the ice under Dean immediately changed to water and emptied down the drain.  “This isn’t the way we do things,” Daly explained, his frown and his strained voice revealing the effort his patience was costing.  “We don’t torture other elementals, no matter what they’ve done.  And we don’t do anything like this right here in my station!  What if that damned FBI agent came back to town?”

            _FBI agent?  Sammy!_   Dean’s heart pounded.  Bad enough these assholes were probably already after Adam.  If they went after Sammy as well…?  “You better behave yourselves!” he called with forced bravado, pushing himself up to a seated position.  “Anything happens to that agent, the big bad feds will pounce on this town and spank every one of you!”

            “Why don’t you shut the hell up, lizard!  Come on, Daly, he still hasn’t learned a damned thing!”

            “Unfortunately, he is correct,” Daly confirmed with a sigh.  “The feds can’t know about this.”

            “This was some serious bullshit!  Police brutality at its finest!  You assholes are all getting sued!” Dean announced.  “I want a fucking lawyer, but don’t call Crowley!  I want a P.D.!”

            That made Daly’s eyebrows shoot up.  “You don’t want Crowley?”

            “Let’s just say we had a difference of opinion,” Dean spat.  “Fuck him, and fuck you too, Daly!”

            Carson sighed.  “I really am getting tired of your mouth.”

            “Say, where’s Shelton?” the other woman asked.  “He should be part of this.”

            “I think Blake’s had enough of Final Justice to last a lifetime,” Carson sighed.  “Besides, he’s worried about Cass.  You know how protective he is, and Cass has a crazy crush on this guy here.”

            “Fuck Novak!  He’s not even an undine!”

            “Yeah, tell him to go find another pretty boy!”

            “Preferably not a criminal and a rogue salamander!”

            “Cass made a mistake!  He put himself on the line, and got injured, to try to correct that mistake,” Carson reminded.  “But that’s not the point here.  The point is, I don’t know that I can trust Blake to help us do what needs to be done, and we can’t take the chance this lizard might talk to the feds!  So I sent Blake and Cass home, told them they both needed to get some rest for a few days.  Meanwhile, we need to do what we have to do now, before the damned feds come nosing around some more.”  He gestured towards Dean.  “Get him up, gag and bag him, and get him out the back.  I’ll meet you there.”

            Uh oh.  Dean had dared to hope, but now he felt those hopes dashed.  He kicked frantically at the men who reached for him, and was rewarded with a hard punch to the gut that knocked the wind out of his already-winded body.  He was further hampered in his attempts to breathe when one of them pressed a piece of duct tape over his mouth.  Then a bag over his head made breathing even harder.  But he kept struggling as he was dragged to his feet and pushed, stumbling, forward.

            He felt the change in the air on his wet skin as he was forced outside.  Then he was shoved into what was probably the back seat of the car.  Dean managed to get a few more good kicks in on his tormentors and received a few hard blows in return.  But it didn’t matter.  He suspected he already knew where they were taking him.  Every child in Elemental Falls had heard the stories of the four kill sites at the falls where so many elementals had died.

            Before he knew it, the car pulled off the paved road.  Dean could hear gravel under the tires, and then the car finally came to a stop.  When he was dragged out of the car, he wasn’t at all surprised to hear the roar of the waterfall.  Once the bag finally came off of his head, he saw exactly what he expected to see.  The Elemental Falls, and the four kill sites surrounded by runes similar to those on the cuffs he still wore.

            To his right was a large blackened pole.  A set of metal steps led up to a grated platform a few feet in the air.  Above the platform, a heavy metal ring was set into the pole where many a sylph had been burned to death.

            To his left, farthest from the water, another heavy metal ring was attached to a large boulder.  Several piles of rounded stones about the size of a softball were gathered around, ready to stone any wayward undines.

            Next to the waterfall was another metal pole similar to the stake where the sylphs died.  A few decades ago, it had been erected to replace the original hanging tree where the pygies had met their ends.

            And there, deep in the pool beneath the waterfall, yet another heavy metal ring waited.  As soon as he was dragged across the line of runes in front of the pool, Dean could feel the runes activate.  His body was suddenly colder, and he felt his strength drain.  It was so bad he stumbled and nearly fell.

            Daly got into the trunk of one of the cars and produced a long length of chain, Dean knew without a doubt that he was about to become closely acquainted with that ring.

            “Don’t do this,” Dean called.  “Don’t drown me.  Most of you are cops, and this is murder!  Let me go, and I’ll leave town and you’ll never see me again!”

            “Too late, salamander,” the cop on his right declared.  “Beg if you want, but this is the end of the line.  You broke The Rules, and now you’ll pay the penalty.”

            “Rules?  What rules?” Dean exclaimed, struggling.  “Everyone keeps talking about these damned rules!  I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!”

            “We’re not animals.  We live by The Rules, and that is how we survive in this world,” Daly explained as he handed one end of the chain to one of the other undines.  “And the fact that you were never taught them doesn’t change anything.”

            Dean could only watch as the undine walked directly into the water.  He stayed under for a time and then finally reappeared, walking back out, appearing just as dry as he’d been when he went under.  The chain still led into the water, and as he pulled the slack out, it pulled on the other end in Daly’s hand.

            The two cops with Dean forced him forward.  He struggled with all his might, but a moment later, the chain was attached to his handcuffs.  The cops holding Dean let him go, moving back as the other undines took the other end of the chain and began pulling.

            “No!”  Dean dug in his heels, fighting desperately to keep from being dragged into the water.  Down below the turbulent surface of the pool, he could picture the ring set into the rock, the chain threaded through the eye of it, sliding through it link by link as the undines continued to pull.  They all had hold of the chain now, nine undines pulling in unison.  Dean stood no chance.

            The water moved past his knees, up to his waist.  He strained, trying to keep his head above the water.  But the chain continued to jerk as each link was pulled through the ring, and the water quickly closed over his head.  _Well, at least they’re quick about it,_ he thought glumly.  _I suppose they could have dragged me down here slow._

            No point in fighting now.  Dean saved his oxygen and let his body float up as the chain continued to drag him down, down, the light dimming more and more as he descended to the bottom of the pool beneath the falls.  He could feel the churning water of the falls now, gently bumping his body.  Ah, there it was, the ring set into the rock at the bottom of the pool.  The last thing so many salamanders before him had ever seen.

            Now it would be the last thing he would ever see.

            Still, he strained, trying desperately to free himself from the cuffs.  Even now, deep in the cold water of the falls, they still felt unnaturally cold.  They were tight around his wrists.  He couldn’t budge them.

            It was over.  The air escaped his lungs in silvery bubbles.  His eyes followed their movement, watching them rise towards the wavy beams of light that shone down through the turbid water as his need to breathe grew ever more desperate.  As consciousness began to fade, Dean felt his body go limp.  _Damn you, dad,_ he thought.  _I never wanted to be like you.  But now I’m even dying like you._

            And then a shadow blocked out the light and Dean knew no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun thinks the undines should be punished for using their powers like that. It was inhumane and uncalled for, and they should be better than that. Carson should do more than just yell at them. But everyone thinks the cops in this story are corrupt anyway. Thinks the shadow Dean saw at the end was someone coming to help him and had a couple of different guesses as to who it was.


	30. Unsanctioned Actions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Undine has to face Sylph and the Council of Elders

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TGIF! Lousy week I've had. I've got several chapters progressing through edits and actually was hoping to do a double post, but then I got distracted by a wonderful event. The Queen of Shevine is back, posting another chapter to her one-shots collection! Made my entire day! If anyone has not read Dragon_Rider, I assure you, you are missing out!
> 
> Yes, I'm a fangirl, sue me.
> 
> So, the cast of "Supernatural" is coming to a convention center that is only about a 20 minute drive from where I work in a couple of months. I looked up prices, and o.O I would have to start doing blowjobs behind truck stops for cash nightly starting now to be able to afford those prices! Bloody hell, I'd no idea conventions were so expensive! Too bad. Although, to be honest, it may have been a bit awkward to see in person someone who's character I've been writing pornographic fan fiction about...

            The Undine was already having a bad night.  He’d gone home and called Sylph immediately after leaving the falls.  He’d told her everything, expecting her to say she’d call the other two elders and meet him at the falls at sunrise.  But instead, she’d snapped that she was coming over and hung up.

            Now here she was in his living room with her scepter in her hand, scowling at him.  And worse, she’d brought along Salamander and Pygmy as well.

            “Undine, I do not understand what you were thinking!” Sylph exclaimed.  The old woman’s face was flushed, and her eyes snapped as she glared at Undine.

            “Seriously, what the hell?” Salamander yelled.  “This time, you’ve gone too far!  You _murdered_ one of my salamanders!”

            “Murder?!” Undine sputtered.  “This council declared Final Justice!  It was a unanimous vote!”

            “Like hell!” Pygmy roared.  Oddly enough, the earth elemental seemed the most upset of the elders.  “We voted for Final Justice if he still refused to abide by The Rules _after_ Salamander explained them to him!  Salamander, did you explain anything to that boy?”

            “I never did,” Salamander declared.  “Primarily because the incompetent Elemental Falls police force under Undine didn’t catch him until today, when they promptly dragged him to the falls!  I was never even notified, and I’m his fucking lawyer!”

            “Undine, I demand an explanation,” Sylph said.  “Why did you drown that young man?”

            “I didn’t do anything that the Council of Elders didn’t vote for!”

            Salamander and Pygmy began yelling again, but the stern voice of Sylph cut through the commotion, silencing them both.  “Undine, the vote for Final Justice was contingent on Salamander explaining The Rules.  If you never called him, then it clearly did not happen.  So I’m afraid I don’t understand.  How can you justify what you’ve done?”

            “Because there was another condition in that vote,” Undine defended.  “The vote was for Final Justice on two conditions, namely if he refused to obey The Rules after he was told them, _or_ if he hurt anyone else using his powers!  Pygmy, you took the minutes!  Check them yourself!”

            “Those were not two separate conditions!” Pygmy protested.

            “I agree.  I never would have voted yes if they were,” Salamander added.

            “Undine, I’m speechless!” Sylph declared.  “How could you take an elemental for Final Justice when they had no idea what they were facing it for?”

            Undine was being attacked from all sides.  He sputtered.  “That bastard used his power on one of my officers, the only one who wasn’t an undine and capable of defending against him!  Our traditions state that, in the event of imminent danger…”

            “What imminent danger?” Salamander exclaimed.  “From what I hear, Winchester was in your custody, Undine!  You had over half a dozen undines at the falls to drown one of my people.  It was practically a fucking lynch mob!”

            “It was elementals policing their own, as per our traditions!” Undine protested.  “And most of them were actually police!  Winchester represented a clear and present danger…”

            “Oh bullshit!”  Pygmy was right in Undine’s face.  “You had that boy in custody, no doubt in those runed handcuffs that I’m starting to agree with Salamander about.  You had him trapped, powerless, and outnumbered when you dragged him to the falls!  Where the hell was there a clear and present danger to anyone but him?”

            “Just fucking admit it!” Salamander urged.  “This was yet another example of the unreasonable prejudice that the corrupt undine police force in Elemental Falls has against my people.  And this time, a salamander paid for it with his life!”

            “Oh, fuck you!” Undine yelled, finally losing his temper.  “Dean Winchester was a rogue salamander with a known history of aggression who had already killed with his powers once.  Now he’d attacked and injured one of my detectives!”

            “And based on what you told me on the phone, Undine, your men had already made Winchester pay for that,” Sylph said.  Her voice was stern, and her gaze was cold and disapproving.

            Salamander and Pygmy looked at her.  Then they both turned to look sharply at Undine.  “What the hell did they do?” Salamander demanded.

            Undine grimaced.  “They were angry.  Winchester had made a fool out of my detective, made the whole department look bad.  Then he hurt Cass, and it was the last straw.  They decided to make an example out of him.  When I arrived, I discovered that they’d taken Winchester to the shower rooms, and were, well, they were using their powers to punish him.”

            “They _tortured_ him?”  Salamander’s eyes bulged as he stared at Undine.

            “They did,” Undine sighed.  “I immediately stopped it, of course.  But he’d been worked over fairly well by the time I arrived.”

            “So your men tortured this salamander, and then you immediately took him to the falls, where you carried out an unsanctioned Final Justice?” Sylph asked.  Her voice was calm, but her eyes were like ice.

            “Absolutely not!  Pygmy, where are the minutes from that meeting?” Undine asked, glowering at Pygmy.  “The vote was for two conditions, that he either broke the rules after hearing about them, or if he used his powers to hurt anyone else!”

            “That wasn’t what I voted for!” Pygmy yelled.  “There were not two conditions there, Undine!  Either condition was dependent on Salamander teaching him The Rules after you caught him!  You had that boy in custody, and you should have called Salamander immediately to come and talk to him.  Instead, you let your men torture him, and then you dragged him out to the falls and drowned him like a rat!”

            “Sanctions!” Salamander urged, looking at Sylph.  “I demand sanctions be levied against Undine and the whole fucking police department!”

            “Have you forgotten that I have family there?” Sylph snapped.  “Sanctions will absolutely be levied against every undine who participated in the torture of that salamander, of course, but I will not penalize the entire Elemental Falls police department because of the actions of a few!”

            “If the numbers are accurate, that’s almost every cop in Elemental Falls involved,” Pygmy growled.  “What the hell is going on in your district, Undine?”

            “Before you worry about my job as chief of police, worry about your own position in the Council, Pygmy,” Undine ordered.  “I asked you a question.  Where are the minutes?  What, exactly, was said?”

            “Don’t give me that lawyer shit!  It doesn’t matter what the exact wording was, the intent…”

            “I asked you a fucking question, Pygmy, and I want an answer!”

            Pygmy’s eyes bulged in his flushed face.  The Secretary of the Council pulled out his notebook, flipped through it, and scowled furiously.  Then he began to read through gritted teeth.  “Winchester is to be recaptured.  Salamander is to explain The Rules to him.  If Winchester refuses to obey, or if he harms anyone else with his powers, unanimous vote taken to exercise Final Justice.”

            Sylph seemed to wilt.  “I never intended that to be two things!”

            “And I never voted on two things!” Salamander added.  “If that was the case, it would have been two separate votes!”

            “Then you all needed to clarify that!” Undine declared, straightening.  “When I took Winchester to the falls, I was exercising the will of the Council.”

            “Fucking undines!” Pygmy snarled.  “You’re so bound by your damned traditions!  It should make you great cops.  But it also means your people are so loyal to you that they follow you blindly, Undine, and you bend the rules more than any other undine I’ve ever met!  You killed that boy on a technicality and you know it!  Now all I want to know is why?”  He held up a hand.  “No, check that.  There’s one other thing I want to know.  What the hell was he doing?  I heard he actually burned through the records safe and torched the records?  That’s one hell of a lot of power, to burn through that safe.  This the one you were looking at as your successor, Salamander?”

            “You know I won’t discuss that,” Salamander declared.  “I don’t have to name my successor until and unless I take the scepter.  Besides, what does it have to do with the subject at hand?”

            “Nothing.  Just that I find it interesting that the records were burned to ash the day before I was going to go in there and do the required background check on you and Undine.  You know, doing my job as Secretary to the Council?  It just seems like the timing is a little bit strange.  Even though Winchester couldn’t have known the danger he’d be in, he still knew that every cop in Elemental Falls would be looking for him, after what he pulled with Novak!  What the hell reason could he have to come back here and burn up a bunch of old records?”  He glared at Undine.  “Of course, now we can’t ask him, can we?”

            “The bottom line here is that I acted as tradition requires to carry out what I believed to be the will of this Council,” Undine declared.  “I think we can all agree that I did indeed carry out the letter of the decision we all voted on.  If that was not the intent, then I’m sorry.”

            “’Sorry’ hardly returns my salamander’s life, now does it, Undine?” Salamander growled.  “I won’t forget this!”

            “I’m reasonably certain you won’t.  Now gentlemen, Sylph, unless there’s anything further?  I bid you good evening.”

            Undine followed the other elders as they made their way to the door.  He was surprised to note that it was Salamander who took Sylph’s arm to help her out, when Pygmy typically took that role.  But then he realized Pygmy had stayed back.  Irritated, Undine looked at the other elder.  “What is it, Pygmy?”

            “I don’t trust you,” Pygmy told him.  “There’s something off about you.  There always has been.  The Pygmy before me warned me about Salamander.  But somehow, I find myself more concerned about you.”

            “And why is that?”

            “Because the most dangerous devil is the one who disguises himself as an angel,” Pygmy declared.  “I’m watching you.”

            “Thanks for the warning.  Now get out of my house.  I’ll see you all at the falls at sunrise.”

            “You mean when we go drag that poor kid’s body out of the water, as per your precious tradition?”

            “Precisely.”

            Pygmy stayed as he was for a moment longer, glowering at Undine.  Then he sniffed, turned on one grubby heel, and headed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun yelled at Salamander all through this chapter while I read it to him “because he’s a douchebag, and he’s manipulating everything, just like he always does!” Sang “Private Eyes” about Pygmy watching Undine, changed lyrics to fit. Thinks Undine is in trouble, but finds it interesting that Salamander left out the part about him calling the boys back and letting slip the perfect opportunity to talk to Dean and warn him “because he’s a douchebag.”


	31. Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam tries to find out what happened to his friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another tough chapter, Luvs, please mind the tags! Planning to do a second post today to make up for these cliffhangers. Really not doing this on purpose to leave people hanging, it's just the natural flow of the story as it progresses.
> 
> Non-diegetic song here is "Goodbye My Lover" by James Blunt  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4jAyZ4njHsc

            Adam stood in darkness on the front porch, staring at the brass knocker on the door, trying to find out if he had the strength to knock.  Right now, he wasn’t sure.  If anything, there was a better than average chance that he would simply collapse.  He wasn’t even entirely certain just how he’d gotten here.  He’d come around through the back yards, he remembered that.  Even in the darkness, guided only by the light of the moon, he’d been ducking behind bushes as he’d moved.  What instinct had caused him to do that, to keep hidden when all he wanted to do was simply lie down and let whatever came take him?  Adam wasn’t sure.  He couldn’t focus.  Only one thing echoed repeatedly through his mind.

            _Dean.  Dean.  Dean._

            Dean had taken him out of the room at the courthouse after he’d all but exhausted himself burning through the safe.  He’d taken care of Adam as he always had, and then he’d gone back in to finish the job.  Meanwhile, Adam had finished his drink, felt better, and started back to the camp, just as Dean had instructed.

            Between the two of them, there was no real leader.  Both actually preferred to follow.  It was one of the biggest reasons that a relationship between the two of them hadn’t worked out.  But it also meant that when one did take charge, the other tended to follow.  And so Adam had gone back to their camp without protest or a second thought, returned to their tent, and lay down for a much-needed nap.

            It wasn’t until he woke up some time later and found Dean missing that he realized something was wrong.

            Calling Dean was out.  John had taught them to silence their phones on missions, as even a vibration could compromise them.  John Winchester was shit as a father, but Adam considered him the best criminal he’d ever met.  He and Dean had listened well and followed his advice.  So until Dean was safe, Adam wouldn’t be able to reach him.  Once Dean was somewhere safe, he should call or text Adam to let him know where he was, give him some guidance on how to find him.  But there was no message, no missed call, no voice mail.  Dean hadn’t called.  That meant one of three things.  Either Dean, for whatever reason, didn’t have his phone or service, he’d been forced into hiding, or, the worst possibility of all, he’d been captured.  Right now, Adam had no way to know which of the three it was.

            For a time, Adam paced anxiously around the camp, waiting for a message from Dean that never came.  Finally, he gave up and went out looking for his friend.

            When he saw the courthouse surrounded by crime scene tape, he knew immediately that Dean had been captured.  With a pounding heart, he’d snuck away and returned to camp.  Once there, Adam had quickly called Crowley.  “Dean’s in trouble,” he reported.  “He’s probably been arrested.  You gotta help him, Crowley!”

            “Calm down,” Crowley advised.  “If he’d been taken into police custody, then I should have been notified.  I’ve not heard a thing!  Are you certain he’s been arrested?”

            Adam explained what he’d seen.

            “Alright,” Crowley said.  “I’ll head over to the station.  You find somewhere to hide and wait for my call.  You must not be captured as well, Adam, do you understand?  Do whatever it takes, but don’t let them take you!”

            It was an ominous order, and one Adam wasn’t sure he could carry out.  Once again, the memory came, the stench of burning flesh, the sickening knowledge that he’d _taken lives_ , and the horrified looks on the faces of John and Dean as they’d led him away.  John had taken his shoulders and shaken him until he couldn’t stand, yelling that he needed to always, always remember how he felt right then.  How he needed to do whatever it took to never, ever let his powers get away from him like that again.  Now Crowley was ordering him to do the exact opposite.  He knew that Crowley was flat-out telling him to kill, if he had to, in order to keep from being captured.  But how could he?

            The answer was, he couldn’t.  Adam wasn’t capable of using his powers to willfully take a life.  He just wasn’t a killer!

            But killing wasn’t his problem now.  Adam was on his own.  For one of the few times in his life, he was alone.  Dean was captured, he was sure of it!  He’d humiliated the police when he’d escaped.  But Dean had been so careful, taking Adam with him on his own fire trail because they both knew there was no way to guarantee Adam’s wouldn’t set the building on fire.  Would that matter to the corrupt police force of Elemental Falls?  They hated salamanders.  Both John and Crowley had told them that!  Now that Dean was back in their power, what would they do to him?  John had told them horror stories about how the undine cops, rather than processing them through the criminal justice system, would instead torture salamanders they’d caught breaking the law and call it “education.”  Crowley hadn’t been called, which meant Dean wasn’t being subjected to the normal justice system.  What was happening to his friend?  Would they torture Dean?

            Adam had a terrible feeling that the humiliated undines would do exactly that.  And the isolation, the loneliness and the simple fact of _not knowing_ quickly became unbearable.

            Little wonder he’d made his way to the edge of town to beat on Bobby Singer’s door.  But Bobby wasn’t there.  Adam tried calling, heard the phone ringing in the house, and remembered that Bobby hated cell phones.  That meant there was no way to reach him, and Bobby didn’t have their numbers.  As per John’s rules, they changed numbers every month to avoid being tracked.  Bobby wasn’t on the short list, preferring to let Adam and Dean call him rather than deal with a constantly-changing series of numbers.  Until Bobby came back home, Adam was still alone.

            Frustrated and worried, Adam went into the garage, made his way back to the “special” section, and found Dean’s Baby hidden under a tarp.  Bobby was pretty much the only other person Dean trusted enough to look after his precious Impala.  As a result, they’d hidden the car right under the noses of the Elemental Falls police force.

            Adam climbed in and sat behind the wheel, running his hands over the spotless dashboard.  He was sure now that his friend was in trouble.  Getting tortured by angry undines was bad enough.  But Adam couldn’t shake this feeling he had, that something had gone terribly, horribly wrong.  Scenario after scenario raced through his mind.  The FBI was after them.  Dean’s brother Sammy had been helping track them down, and had succeeded.  What if he’d come back, captured Dean again, and this time put him under the custody of the FBI?  Maybe they’d already taken Dean away?  Adam wasn’t sure if that would be better or worse than his friend being in the hands of the all-undine police department.  It wasn’t fair!  Dean hadn’t done anything seriously wrong.  He’d never hurt anyone who didn’t have it coming, and he certainly hadn’t been the one who’d taken a life!  Sure, Dean had been right there with him on a number of arson jobs.  But Adam had just burned through a safe!  Surely that was proof positive that, of the two of them, Dean certainly wasn’t the most dangerous!  Well, ok, Dean had burned up the records.  But considering the heat that Adam had generated, there likely wasn’t much to burn up.  Had Dean found something?  What if he had?  Worse, what if he’d been captured with some sort of incriminating evidence in his hand?  If Dean was arrested, then screaming for his lawyer would have been one of the first things he’d done.  So then why hadn’t Crowley been notified?

            Over and over again, Adam thought of Adam Milligan.  And his gut twisted, sick with fear for his friend.  What if he went out to the falls, tried to fight to save his friend?  His fire burned hotter than any other salamander.  He knew he couldn’t win, but maybe he could distract them, give Dean a chance to escape?  It was a wild idea, one that Adam knew was hopeless even as it entered his mind.  But he had to do something, didn’t he?  He couldn’t just let them take Dean to the falls and…

            And then his phone rang, displaying Crowley’s number.

            “Adam?”  Crowley’s voice sounded strange.  He’d never heard the Salamander speak so quietly.  And he knew.  Even before Crowley tried to explain something about rules and Final Justice, Adam knew that Dean was gone.  Strange.  Adam couldn’t really remember a time, except for that short period of time between the day John had kidnapped his son and the day he’d returned to take Adam as well, that Dean hadn’t been there.  It seemed that they’d always been best friends.  So why was it that he hadn’t known, hadn’t felt something inside of himself wither and die when Dean drowned?

            “Where is he?” Adam called, interrupting Crowley.

            “It’s traditional for the Council of Elders to retrieve the body at sunrise after Final Justice is carried out,” Crowley had explained.  “The idea is to ensure that the victim is really dead.  So tomorrow…”

            “Tell me where he is!” Adam yelled.

            Crowley paused for a beat.  “He’s still at the falls, chained under the water at the base of the pool.  But Adam…”

            Adam hung up.

            He’d sat there, behind the wheel of the Impala where Dean usually sat.  The inside of the car smelled like his friend.  Dean’s hands had polished the metal until it shone.  The car really was a work of art, and had drawn attention everywhere they’d gone.  Whose idea had it been to use it as a distraction while they did a job?  It didn’t matter.  Baby had been Dean’s one true love, the only one of his many lovers who had never left him.  Even Adam had left him, hadn’t he?  They’d been lovers once, and that had been good for a while.  But despite the obvious differences that somehow made them close friends, it had been their sameness that ruined them as lovers.  They both had too much pain, been hurt too many times.  And eventually, they’d simply stopped sharing a bed and gone back to being friends.  They constantly moved, traveled from town to town as they worked for Lucifer and then later for Crowley.  Over and over, Adam had watched Dean fall in love, only to have to leave his new lover behind.  And eventually, Dean simply stopped giving his heart away.  He’d closed himself off, clung only to Adam, and refused to let anyone else in.  Even though Adam remained at Dean’s side, Dean was the loneliest man he’d ever known.

            Now he was gone.

            Adam got out of the car and carefully replaced the tarp.  Then he went outside, moving deep into the salvage yard where Bobby kept the worst of the scrap.  He looked around at the rusting bits of metal.  The air was starting to waver with heat.  Bits of debris smoldered, yet no flames rose.  For the first time since his powers manifested, Adam’s unchecked emotions didn’t result in spontaneous fire.  It surprised him for a moment.  But he’d quickly realized the truth.

            He had nothing left.

            Adam’s only living relative was a mother who didn’t recognize him and rejected him even as she asked constantly if anyone had seen him.  All he had was Dean.  The idea that he’d never see Dean again, never work with him again, never yell and spar and fight with him?  It was unbearable.  He turned, wide-eyed, staring at the rusted skeletons of the cars and thinking, yes, this was what he was.  Just a burned-out husk.  Dean had always anchored him.  Being with his friend in that damned Impala was the closest thing Adam had to home.  Without Dean, he was lost.

            He’d started walking after that, moving through the dimming light as the sun set.  By the time he’d reached the falls, it was dark.  The moonlight reflected in mad patterns from the churning surface of the pool beneath the falls.  As Adam approached the edge of the pool, he could feel it the moment he stepped over the salamander runes.  The cold went to his bones.  His teeth were chattering as he looked at the chain that protruded from the water.  It had been locked with a heavy padlock around the trunk of a tree, securing this end of it.  Adam took hold of it and tugged experimentally, noting the resistance on the other end.  His eyes followed the chain as it disappeared into the water.  In his mind, he pictured the chain under the water, leading down through the churning depths to where it passed through the eye of the ring at the bottom of the pole.  Down to where something anchored it in place, deep under the water.

            _Dean._

            The water was up to Adam’s thighs before he knew it.  He waded in, moving along the chain hand over hand.  But by the time the water lapped at his waist, he knew he couldn’t do it.  He couldn’t just let himself drown, not even to be with his friend.  Somewhere beneath the water, Dean waited.  But Adam couldn’t go to him.

            It was, without a doubt, the lowest moment of his life.

            Trudging back out of the water, Adam turned and looked back.  He closed his eyes, imagining Dean down in the water.  Adam could picture him so clearly, his green eyes and every freckle he’d teased Dean about when they were kids.  He knew how Dean smelled, how it felt to hold him or be held by him.  But now he was at the bottom of the pool, and for what?  He must have been so afraid, so alone, drowned like an animal by people who had no idea how special he was.  None of his murderers had known how Dean cared for Adam, protected him.  They couldn’t have known about those first nights when Dean had stayed all night to comfort him when John would still chain Adam at night.  They didn’t know how it was with him, how many times Dean had stood between Adam and John, especially in the later years when Adam rebelled more and more.  Or how Dean never let anyone hurt Adam, had always made anyone who had pay, be they punk kids or lovers or anyone he’d ever gotten into a brawl with for whatever stupid reason.  Dean always had his back.  Dean had been there for Adam, even during the worst time right after John had died when Dean had crawled into a bottle.  When he’d finally recovered and held the booze again instead of the booze holding him, Dean had looked at Adam, smiled, and said, “I came back for you, buddy.  You kept me from drowning.”

            But in the end, Adam had failed him, hadn’t he?  This time, Dean wouldn’t come back.  Dean had drowned after all.

            His hands tightened around the chain as he looked down towards the water, where his friend waited.  “Dean,” he whispered.  “Deanie?  I’m sorry, buddy.  But I can’t do this.”

            Then once more, he’d started walking.

            Now he stood before a door.

            With his last ounce of strength, Adam reached up and knocked. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late night, slept in, busy morning, and I did not get to read this one to Mr. Fun. I'll post his comments on it after he gets home.


	32. Don't Have The Strength

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake struggles to come to terms with his conflicting beliefs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun's comments from the previous chapter: Crowley is still a douchebag. Doesn’t think Dean is dead. Adam needs to get pissed off and go after Crowley for letting it happen. Thinks Crowley let it happen to get Dean’s influence out of the way, so he could have Adam as his successor.

            Blake was having a bad night.

            He was the firstborn son of a pair of undines.  All his life, he’d known what he would become.  His parents had taught him everything he needed to know, and by the time his powers manifested, Blake already knew how to use them.  As an undine, he had more control over his powers than any other type of elemental did.  And Blake knew exactly how to use that control.  He could control water in any form, change it from one form to another, shape it, and draw it forth from the water elemental plane.  He could use it to shield himself, or attack, or even to heal.  After all, the human body was mostly water.  With a mother that was a nurse and a father that was a cop, Blake could have had a step up to go into either of the two most popular professions for undines.  The fact that he’d chosen to be a cop was one that he’d never regretted.

            Until now.

            _“_ _These two were kidnapped and raised by a rogue who never taught them The Rules and brought them into a life of crime.  That’s all they know.  Now one of them is going to die for what they were never taught?  It’s bullshit, Blake!  It’s wrong!”_

_“To hell with the Council!  These two need instruction, mentoring, not Final Justice!”_

_“His friend is dying because the bastard who kidnapped him was inexcusably negligent in their education as elementals, and it’s completely, utterly wrong!”_

            Over and over, Cass’s words echoed in Blake’s mind.  The undine spirit in him rebelled against them, demanded that he follow tradition and the leadership of the Undine as he always had.  But something in his best friend’s words had rung true.  As an officer of the law, he was charged with upholding that law and protecting the people of Elemental Falls.  And the cop in him was shouting that what was happening to Dean Winchester was wrong.

            Blake believed in capital punishment for normal humans found guilty in a court of law in a fair trial.  Elementals had abilities that were all too easy to misuse.  Final Justice was the ultimate protection that normal humans had.  It was the duty of every elemental to obey The Rules, which were written specifically to safeguard not only normal humans, but other elementals as well.  No one wanted a repeat of the witchcraft trials.

            But Dean Winchester and Adam Levine hadn’t ever been taught The Rules.

            If someone visited another country, they were responsible for learning the laws of that country.  If you broke a law you didn’t know about in another country, you were still held responsible for that law.  The Rules shouldn’t be any different.

            Blake rooted around.  Where had he put Singer’s book?  The thing was impossible to read in one sitting, but Blake had taken the time to mark the pertinent sections.  Singer had gone in depth, listing each tenant of The Rules and providing rationale and history to support it.  There were subrules, outlining the various traditions followed by the elementals, and this included the information on Final Justice.  But in a nutshell, The Rules boiled down to four basic ideas.  Elementals felt drawn to Elemental Falls.  They were not to draw attention to their powers.  They weren’t to use their powers to hurt anyone except in self-defense when there was no other option.  And the elementals answered to the Council of Elders.  They were simple, they made sense, and they were intuitive.  Did Dean Winchester really need anyone to sit down with him and tell him that doing something like burning Cass was wrong and worthy of punishment?

            Ah, there it was, the anger.  That moment of panic followed by blind fury Blake had felt when he’d heard Cass cry out in pain, when he’d seen his partner on the floor and Winchester leaning menacingly over him, was still with him.  Cass insisted that Winchester was only trying to see if he was alright when Blake had come in.  But at the time, that wasn’t what it looked like.  When Blake had come into that room, he’d been sure Winchester had been about to kill his partner.  Did that have anything to do with it?  Was that residual fear, the knowledge of how close he’d come to losing Cass, helping him to blindly follow the Undine, even while part of Blake screamed that something was wrong, something was just somehow _off_ about this entire situation?

            The thoughts echoed through his brain, the undine who wanted to be loyal battling with the cop who wanted to uphold the law, until Blake thought he’d lose his mind.  He watched a sitcom he normally enjoyed without seeing it.  Hopefully the other viewers got a few laughs.  Blake was now on his third beer.  He thought about eating something, but after nosing through his fridge and cupboards, he realized his stomach was utterly uninterested in anything.  In fact, if he forced himself to eat, there was a chance he’d end up sick.

            Cass.  What was happening with Cass?  By now, Winchester would have already been taken to the falls, and Cass might just be at his worst.  Time to call.

            Cass picked up on the second ring.  “I’m fine,” he snapped.  “Stop worrying about me!”

            “Not going to happen, buddy,” Blake declared.  “How about I come over and pick you up?  We can…”

            “I’m in the bathtub!”  An irritated splashing sound came over the phone.  “The skin on my burns is starting to peel and it’s itchy as hell, so I’m trying to soak it off.”

            “Well, I can certainly help with that!  I can be there in…”

            “Blake, I do not want company right now, alright?  I’m fine.  Now please just leave me alone!”

            And then Blake was listening to an empty line.  Great.  Now he felt even worse.  Cass had sounded funny, but Blake wasn’t sure how.  He certainly seemed upset.  It wasn’t like Cass to be so short and abrupt with Blake, as if he wanted only to tell Blake what he’d wanted to hear so that Blake would leave him alone.

            That worried Blake.

            What if he just popped over there, uninvited, just to check on his friend?  He was reasonably certain that would piss Cass off, but right now, Blake didn’t care.  Cass would get over being pissed off at Blake.  Blake was more concerned Cass might do something he would _not_ get over.  Like slit his wrists while he was in that bathtub.

            Blake made up his mind.  He was going over there and staying with Cass one way or another.  Either Blake would stay at Cass’s place, or Blake would take him, bathtub and all, back home.  There was no way his partner should be alone tonight.

            He was pulling on his boots when his phone buzzed with a text.  It was from Cass.

            DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT COMING OVER.  I LOCKED THE DOORS.  HAVE A GOOD NIGHT.

            Now that was just mean.  Blake picked up his phone and sent a text back.  FINE THEN U COME OVER HERE!

            NO STOP TREATING ME LIKE A CHILD!

            CASS U SHOULDN’T BE ALONE TONIGHT!

            TURNING OFF PHONE NOW.

            Blake swore at the phone for a solid minute without repeating himself.  That did it.  He was going over there, and if he couldn’t get in, well, he’d park his ass in a tree and spy on him through the windows.  And if Cass pulled the damned blinds, he was breaking in.

            Blake shrugged into a jacket and dug the binoculars out of his hunting equipment.  He was just getting his keys to head over to Cass’s place when there was a knock on the door.  He breathed a sigh of relief.  Of course.  Cass must have known Blake was coming over, and had come here instead.  Thank God.  “Coming!” he yelled, quickly hiding the binoculars in the closest closet.  Inwardly, he was bracing for a fight.  Blake was reasonably sure Cass would try to show he was fine and then storm out.  That wasn’t going to happen.  Once he got his hands on Cass, Blake had no intention of letting him go.  Cass was staying right here, where Blake could help him and, more importantly, make sure he didn’t do anything to hurt himself.  And if that meant Blake had to tie his sorry ass to a bed, so be it!

            “Cass, I am so glad you changed your mind!” he announced, opening the door.  “I was…”

            Adam Levine stood on Blake’s porch, framed by the light from the open door.  The cocky, self-assured salamander Blake had arrested was nowhere to be seen.  This version of Adam was nearly unrecognizable.  His eyes looked like sunken hollows in his pale face.  His cheeks glistened with the tracks of tears, and he stood with his shoulders slumped and his head low, staring at the ground with his hands dangling limply at his sides.  When he spoke, his voice was monotonous and low.  “I’m here to turn myself in,” he said.

            Blake had to remind himself to close his mouth and stop gawking.  He managed to collect himself enough to step aside.  “Come in.”

            Adam stepped through the door, jumping slightly at the small click as Blake closed it behind him.  Now that Blake had him inside, he could get a better look at him.  His clothing was soaked from the waist down.  His motorcycle boots were caked with mud and bits of vegetation.  It looked like he’d walked for some distance, and not on any road.  He looked pale and swayed a bit as he stood wordlessly in Blake’s entryway.  When Blake put a hand on his shoulder, he flinched.  But he didn’t say a word, allowing Blake to guide him in to sit on the sofa.  To hell with the upholstery.

            Leaving Adam seated on his couch in his living room, Blake hurried into his study and pulled the wooden box with his name carved into it out of his desk.  Generally, they used the equipment at the station for arrests.  But since Blake was off duty, he only had his personal equipment.  Fortunately, Carson had presented him and Cass with these boxes at Christmas, which contained their own personal sets of runed handcuffs.  They were mostly symbolic, but right now, they’d come in handy.  Being careful not to touch the undine cuffs, Blake selected the salamander set and slipped them into his pocket.  Honestly, it was a good thing he had these.  There weren’t that many available, and the other set he’d had from the station was likely still…  Nope, never mind.  Blake was not going to think right now about where that other set probably was right now.

            Next, he picked up a recording device, a notepad and pen, and a laminated card with the Miranda warning printed on it.  He thought for a moment, and then flipped through his rolodex and selected a contact card, putting it into the breast pocket of his shirt.  He did a quick inventory of the items he’d gathered and took a moment to get his equilibrium back.  Then he pulled out his phone.  He stared at it, frowning.  Adam was a wanted fugitive, and part of a federal investigation.  Blake needed to call this in.  At the very least, he should call Cass, let his partner know about this development and have him come over to help interrogate Adam.  But of course, Cass had just turned off his phone.  Alright, what about Carson?  Yes, Carson needed to know.  But even as he thought this, something stayed his hand. 

            He stared at his phone for a moment longer.  Then he slipped it back into his pocket and went back out into the living room.

            Adam hadn’t moved.  He sat just as Blake had left him, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his head low, staring at his folded hands.  He didn’t look up when Blake returned and put the recorder and his writing implements on the coffee table.  But when Blake produced the handcuffs and moved towards him, he eyed the cuffs, noting the now-familiar runes.  Then his eyes flicked up towards Blake’s face.  “You don’t need those.  I’m surrendering.  I won’t fight you or try to run away.”

            “It’s procedure,” Blake explained.  “Besides, I can’t take the chance you’ll change your mind and burn down my house!”

            Adam’s eyes returned to his hands.

            “I’ll cuff your hands up front,” Blake offered.  “Keep you as comfortable as possible.”

            “Whatever.  I don’t care.  Do whatever you want to do to me.”

            That made Blake frown.  He quickly cuffed Adam and read him his rights.  Adam hadn’t move while Blake cuffed him, except to let his breath out in a little hiss when the runed cuffs first touched his skin and reacted to his salamander spirit.  Then he acknowledged Blake’s recitation of Miranda with a nod.  But beyond this, he was still, subdued.  His eyes seemed far away.

            Blake left him for a moment and went into the kitchen.  He got two bottles of beer and returned.  Taking the cap off of one bottle, he held it down and gently nudged Adam’s hands with it.

            Adam blinked, focusing on the bottle, and then looking up at Blake.  “Is this procedure?”

            “No.  Take it.”

            Adam hesitated.  Then his cuffed hands moved to gingerly accept the bottle.

            Blake sat next to him and opened his own bottle.  He took a drink and watched as Adam took a tentative sip.  Adam was trembling, but Blake wasn’t sure if it was anxiety, or just that he was cold from his wet clothing.  Well, he could do something about the latter.  He waved his hand, and suddenly Adam’s clothing was dry.  He blinked in astonishment.  Then he chuckled.  “Sometimes undines come in handy.  Thank you.”

            “You’re welcome.  Do you want me to call Crowley?” Blake asked him softly.  “I got his number.”

            Adam shook his head.  “I called him earlier.”

            “So he knows you’re here, what you’re doing?”

            “No.”  Adam was staring at his bottle of beer now, turning it slightly in his hands.

            “Does anyone know you’re here?”

            “I didn’t even know I was coming here!” Adam retorted.  “I was just walking, skulking through the bushes out back even though I didn’t have anywhere to go and didn’t really care if I got caught.  Then I realized I was behind your house.”

            “So, you decided to come around front, knock on the door and just surrender?”

            Adam nodded.  “I’m tired.  I’m exhausted, and I’m sick, and Dean…”  He grimaced.

            “You know about your friend.”  Blake nodded.  “I figured you did.”

            “Yeah.”  Adam’s voice was little more than a whisper now.

            “So what do you want to happen now?”

            “I don’t care.  I’m done running.  You have me now.  Do whatever you want, I don’t care anymore.  I just want it to end.”

            “Want what to end?”

            “Everything,” Adam said simply.  “All of it.”  His eyes closed, and his head dropped even further.  “The cops are crawling all over this town.  I could have gone to any of them, I suppose, but I wanted you.”

            “Me?”  Blake raised an eyebrow.  “And what do you think I’ll do?

            “You’ll drown me,” Adam said simply.  “Just like you drowned my best friend.  And I’m fine with it, but I didn’t want to go to the station.  I want you to do it.  You and that Angel Eyes in the trench coat, if you want.  Just get it over with, ok?”

            “Why do you want us to drown you?”

            “Because I couldn’t do it myself!”  The tears were flowing from his closed eyes now.  “I tried.  I went out there to the falls and I tried to go to Dean, but I couldn’t do it.  So you do it.  Take me out to the falls.  I don’t have the strength to fight anymore.  I’m ready.”

            Blake took another drink, not taking his eyes off of Adam.  “So you want to die.”

            “I want it to end!  I just want everything to stop!”

            Blake put his hand on Adam’s shoulder, and the smaller man flinched   When the hazel eyes met his, Blake said, “Talk to me.  Tell me everything.”

            For a long moment, Adam simply looked at him.  Then he nodded.

            And then he told Blake everything.

            Blake listened, asking a few questions to clarify.  But there could be no doubt.  Fergus Crowley, criminal defense lawyer and elder of the salamanders, was the King of Hell.  The shadow behind the crimes he and Cass, not to mention the FBI, had been investigating was the smug bastard who had been a thorn in their sides right here in Elemental Falls all this time.  And, by the sound of things, he had damned near half the salamanders in town working for him!  “Adam, are you absolutely certain that the numbers you gave me are accurate?”

            “I didn’t go around and take a head count, but yeah, near as I can tell,” Adam replied.

            Blake rubbed at his face.  “Adam, this is one hell of a thing here,” he said.  “If we arrest Crowley, it’s going to start a war.  Crowley is the Salamander.  That means we can’t touch him!”

            “Why the hell not?”

            “The elders are all untouchable,” Blake explained.  “The only way to take down an elder is a special vote among the elementals that elder leads.  The salamanders would have to vote him out and vote a new Salamander in his place.  But if that many work for him, it won’t happen!”  He shook his head.  “Even if we just arrested the worst offenders among the salamanders, it’s going to turn into salamanders versus undines and probably drag the other elementals into it, as well.  This could end up with fighting in the streets!”

            “I honestly do not give a shit,” Adam mumbled.  “That’s your problem, not mine.  I told you everything I know.  Now will you please just take me to the falls?”

            “Adam, I am not going to take you to the falls, alright?” Blake sighed.  “I’m not going to kill you.”

            “Dammit, Blake!” Adam yelled, finally showing some emotion.  “I don’t want your goodbuddies from the station to do it alright?  Won’t you just grant me this one last request?”

            “Even if me drowning you was anywhere in the picture, and it’s not…”

            “Why not?” Adam challenged.  “You drowned Adam Milligan!”

            “And I still have nightmares about it sometime!  But you’re missing the point, Adam.  Final Justice has to be ordered by the Council of Elders.  And when your friend’s case was presented, if he hadn’t hurt Cass…”

            “Wait, Dean hurt Cass?  How?  An undine shouldn’t have…”

            “Cass isn’t an undine!”

            Adam blinked.  “What?  But every cop in this town’s an undine!”

            “Except Cass.”

            “Huh,” Adam marveled.  “Gotta respect the guy for that.  Dean should…”  He stopped, grimacing again.  And then his face crumpled, and his eyes filled with tears.

            Without thinking, Blake pulled him into his arms.  “I know it hurts,” he began.  “But you can’t help him by joining him, alright?  And I know I don’t know the guy, but do you really think that’s what he’d want you to do?”

            Adam didn’t respond.  But he tucked his head under Blake’s chin.  “I just want it to be you,” he said quietly.

            “Why?”

            “Because you sang with me,” Adam said simply.  “If these old bastards decide to Final Justice me and I go to the falls, I want you to be there.”

            That surprised Blake.  He tightened his arms around Adam.  “Hey, c’mon now, my voice isn’t that good!”

            “We were good together, that night.  Even drunk off our asses, we had something, didn’t we?  When we sang, there was a connection.  Without Dean, I don’t have anyone.  And I want someone there that has a connection to me, even it was just something that happened while you were drunk, and you regret it now.”

            “I don’t regret it.  Believe me, I’ve gotten drunk and done a hell of a lot of things I regretted later.  But what happened between us, Adam?  That’s not one of them.”

            Adam looked up at him.  For a moment, they simply stared at each other.  And then Adam brought his cuffed hands up, slipped his arms over Blake’s head, and gently pulled his head down for a kiss.

            Blake had enough presence of mind to wonder exactly what the hell he was doing, making out with a prisoner on his living room couch?  But then he was kissing Adam and nothing else mattered.  He pulled Adam into his lap and tightened his arms around him, feeling the tight muscles in his back.  Adam pressed against his chest, tongue greedily exploring Blake’s mouth.  He twisted around so he could straddle Blake.  Then he rolled his hips forward, brushing their groins together, and Blake moaned aloud.  He’d never been with a man before.  Had he been missing out, or was Adam just one of a kind?  All he knew was that he didn’t want it to stop.  He sucked on Adam’s tongue, drawing a gasp from the smaller man.  Then he pushed Adam back onto the couch.  Adam gave a small cry.  And then he was turning his head away.  “Not like this!  Get off of me, please, I don’t want it to be like this.  Not with me as your prisoner.”

            The words made no sense at all to Blake.  He blinked owlishly down at Adam, not comprehending.  But then what Adam had said hit home.  “Oh fuck!” he groaned.  “Dammit, I’m sorry, baby!  I wasn’t trying to take advantage of you!”

            “I know.  I started it, remember?  And I shouldn't have.  I'm sorry.  Just let me up.”

            Blake sheepishly climbed off of Adam.  He helped him up.  “I knew better.  That was out of line.  Cass would…  _Cass!_ ”  Blake frantically looked at the clock and saw with dismay that two hours had passed since Adam had showed up at his door.  His heart sank to the soles of his feet.

            Ignoring a confused Adam, Blake quickly called Cass.  He’d been afraid that Cass would still have his phone off, but to his immense relief, Cass answered quickly.  “Blake, it is one o’clock in the morning,” Cass declared.  “You had better have a very good reason for calling me now, because if you’re just calling to check up on me, I swear I’m quitting the force and moving to Bermuda to open a tiki bar!”

            “You don’t have the legs for one of those grass skirts, Cass,” Blake retorted, thinking fast.  “Cass, there’s been a development in the case, a big one.  I need you to come over.”

            “I’m off duty.”

            “Not for this you’re not!  This is…”

            “Blake!”  Cass’s voice sounded strained.  “Do you hear me?  I am telling you that I cannot work right now.  If you’re any sort of friend to me, you’ll respect that.  Now I appreciate that you didn’t just call to make sure I’m not dead.  But I need you to promise me that you will leave me alone, at least for the next few days.  I need recovery time, Blake.  Alright?”

            “Alright, buddy,” Blake said, puzzled.  “If that’s what you want.”

            “It is.  I’m sorry, partner.  Good luck on the case.”

            Then once again, the phone went dead.

            Adam was looking at him strangely.  Blake glanced at him, and then looked at his phone.

            “Calling your boss?” Adam asked, noting this.

            “Not just yet,” Blake said slowly.  “If I call him, that’s pretty much going to be the start of an elemental war.  I think there’s someone else that I need to call first.”  He quickly dialed.

            When a sleepy voice picked up on the other end, Blake said, “Agent Sam Winchester?  This is Detective Blake Shelton.  And we really need to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun says he figured Adam went to Blake’s house. Glad Crowley might get what’s coming to him, but is sure Crowley still has an ace up his sleeve. Glad he called Sam.


	33. What It Means To Be Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam gets an unexpected visitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, pro tip, always check your food and drink prior to shoving it into your face. I'll spare the details and just say I am feeling pretty sick right now.
> 
> Work is getting pretty wild, so forgive me, but updates may be a bit sporadic. Bear with me.
> 
> Non-diegetic music here is "Broken Arrows" by Daughtry.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RX2SzxM4VyU

            Agent Sam Winchester hung up the phone with a sigh.  He fisted his hands and rubbed at his eyes.  So much for sleep tonight.  _Well, at least Singer kept his word,_ he thought.  _He apparently didn’t tell them where I was._

            Sam still wasn’t exactly sure how it was that Bobby Singer had managed to find him.  He’d been so careful, leaving town in a huff and making sure he was seen heading for the airport.  Then he’d gone to another rental company outside of town, rented a different car, and had been camping out here, at this motel well outside of Elemental Falls.  From here, he’d been keeping an eye on the events of the town.  Something big was going on there.  Sam was sure of it.  Whatever it was, he intended to get to the bottom of it.

            Now he felt vindicated.  The moment Shelton and Novak had dragged Winchester and Levine into that stupid car he’d known that those two idiots couldn’t possibly be the masterminds behind the King of Hell’s criminal enterprise.  All they were was a couple of hotheads.  Hired thugs.  And now Shelton was feeling ways about Levine.  Well, that could come in handy.  If he wanted to get together and make sweet Shevine – Sam took a moment to congratulate himself on his own wit for that one – then that meant he would protect Levine.  And Levine was the best witness the bureau had ever had against Fergus Crowley, the King of Hell.

            That was why Sam had put on the elaborate ruse.  The King of Hell was his true target, and he had no intention of leaving until he’d caught him.  He’d been so careful, so sure that no one knew he was there.

            And yet, Bobby Singer had come knocking on his door tonight.

            Sam was all too aware that he wasn’t well liked at the Portland field office where he was usually stationed.  Jealousy, he supposed.  The other agents were envious that a young, inexperienced agent like himself was attracting so much attention by solving the big crimes no one else could crack.  Still, subjecting him to Shelton and Novak had been a bit much.  The kite thing, the car wash, and finally that absurd, over the top car chase?  If Sam lived to be a hundred, he’d never forgive Shelton and Novak for that.  But he’d done a bit of digging.  He’d spoken on the phone with a few other agents who’d experienced the two detectives.  Just as he’d expected, Shelton and Novak were known throughout the state of Maine and half of Massachusetts and New Hampshire as the go-to local assets for hazing new agents.  On the surface, being sent to Bobby Singer seemed like yet another hazing tactic.  But then he’d met Fergus Crowley, saw the proof of the elementals with his own eyes, and everything had changed.

            Most of the time he’d spent at the motel, he’d been pouring over Singer’s book.  He’d managed, with the help of a great deal of caffeine and some copious note-taking, to read the entire book cover to cover twice.  Then he’d indexed the information into a surprisingly comprehensive database.  Singer was the worst author he’d ever read.  But as a researcher, he was unmatched.  Where had he even found some of the information he’d presented?  Sam had cross-checked what he could, and every single fact had checked out.  There was no reason to believe that the rest of the facts in the book weren’t just as accurate.  And if that was the case?  That meant Sam had been given the definitive guide to elementals for less than he’d paid for yesterday’s lunch.

            All week, Sam had monitored the progress of the investigation.  He hadn’t been surprised that no official word had ever come through about the capture of two suspects who’d been the focus of a federal investigation.  One of the biggest constants in Singer’s book had been that the elementals policed their own.  It was how they kept their autonomy, how they kept their elementals out of laboratories and kept their way of life intact.  But it also meant that he had precious little information.  He’d been able to connect with a few informants, hack into the police computers, and secure copies of the local newspaper.  From these sources, he was able to keep track of the events in the town.  This was how he’d learned that Winchester and Levine had escaped.  While he wasn’t able to discover exactly what had happened, somehow Winchester and Levine had managed to get out of the supposedly-magic handcuffs and escape almost immediately after they’d been taken into custody and Sam had left town.  But somehow, the two insane detectives had found a way to track the two fugitives.

            Why Winchester and Levine had chosen to return to Elemental Falls was a complete mystery to Sam.  But it had happened, and suddenly a full-fledged manhunt was underway in the town.

            Unfortunately, all Sam could do was wait.  Waiting was the hardest part, but it had finally paid off when his contact in Elemental Falls informed him that they’d taken Winchester into custody.  Levine, he was sure, would soon follow.  It was only a matter of time.  Then he’d return, take the two into custody, and make sure that they testified in his investigation into the King of Hell.

            Sam had gone for dinner, returned, and was just settling on a movie to watch in his motel room when Singer had knocked on the door.  Singer hadn’t waited to be invited in, instead pushing his way past the agent.  “Please, come in,” Sam had called sarcastically.

            “Your brother Dean’s dead.”  No preamble, no hesitation.  Singer just blurted out his news.

            Sam blinked.  “…I see.  That will certainly make my job harder, but can I ask how you found me?”

            Singer’s face had darkened.  “That’s all you gotta say?  I come in here and tell you your brother’s dead, and all you want to know is how I found you?!”

            “Lower your voice,” Sam had advised.  “He might have been my biological brother, but I didn’t know him, alright?  I’m not gonna get all emotional over a guy I don’t know and honestly don’t want to know.  He’s a damned criminal, and…”

            That was when Singer had gotten right up in Sam’s face, moving so close that the bill of his cap almost bumped Sam’s chin as he glared up at the agent.  “You listen to me, and you listen good!” Singer growled.  “You didn’t know Dean, and Adam Milligan was just a name on a report to you.  But I knew them both!  Both of them were good kids in bad situations.  Adam had a shit life and finally snapped, and that’s what got him killed.  That one’s on me, because I should have done a better job for him.  But Dean?  Your daddy dragged him into the Business, and it’s not one you can just walk away from!”

            Sam took an involuntary step back.  “Business, what business?”

            “You know damned well what business!  You’re the big bad FBI agent, Sammy!  You know your brother and your daddy worked for the King of Hell, ain’t that why you’re here?”

            That made Sam’s eyes narrow.  “How is it that you’re privy to information on an ongoing investigation?”

            “Same way I’m privy to the fact you’re still here,” Singer spat.  “I’ve got eyes and ears everywhere, ya idjit!  And you’re missing the damned point again!  Your brother Dean deserved some time behind bars for sure, but he didn’t deserve to die.  He sure as hell didn’t deserve Final Justice!”

            “Ah, so Shelton and Novak drowned him at the falls, too?  That’s what’s got you so upset?”

            “Hell no!  Blake and Cass didn’t touch Dean, except to arrest him.  Yeah, he burned Cass a bit while they were fighting, but even then, it should have been voted on!”

            “By the Council of Elders, right?  They’re the only ones who can authorize Final Justice.”  Seeing Singer’s eyes widen in surprise, Sam nodded.  “I read your book, cover to cover.  And I indexed the information.  I actually wanted to thank you.  It’s been immensely helpful in my investigation and will continue to be.  Now, tell me how it was that Final Justice could be carried out without a vote by the elders?”

            “I can’t tell you that.”  Singer had taken a step back and was visibly calmer.  “You’re an outsider, Sammy.  Only reason I told you as much as I did was because you’ve got elemental blood.  But you’re not an elemental, and only elementals can be privy to what goes on in the Council.”

            “That so?”  Sam rubbed at his chin, looking Singer up and down.  “You don’t like change.  You’re stubborn.  You’re interested in history and tradition.  What are you, Singer?  An undine, or a pygmy?”

            “Balls!” Singer exclaimed, visibly pleased now.  “Finally, someone really did read my book!  You know, I put years of research into that, put it out to be a guide to the people here in this town.  But no one reads it but the tourists who don’t believe a damned word of it!  If your idjit brother would have taken the time to read the damned thing, he’d still be alive!”

            “Pygmy,” Sam guessed.  “Undines are way calmer than you seem to be.  And they’re stubborn at first, but they’ll change their minds eventually.  You’re as tenacious as a weed.  Hardheaded, indeed!  You just will not give up on this idea that I should somehow sweep in and get justice for Winchester, will you?”

            Once again, Singer’s face darkened.  “You lost two brothers to Final Justice, boy!” he spat.  “Two!  Even if you didn’t know them, they’re still family.  And dammit, that should mean something to you!  Dean especially!  Sammy, he was your own flesh and blood.  Adam didn’t leave anyone with any choice after what he did.  He’d already killed and was out for more, and if I’d been an elder, frankly I would have voted for Final Justice, too.  But Dean?  Dean didn’t deserve what happened to him!  Your daddy never taught him The Rules he had to follow, so he didn’t know that what he was doing was forbidden!  He never knew, and they drowned him anyway!  Even if you don’t care about the fact that he’s your blood, that boy was intentionally drowned, Sammy, for not following Rules he knew nothing about!  At the very least, that should be manslaughter.  You’re an FBI agent!  Get up off your skinny ass and investigate it!”

            “That’s precisely what I’m doing!”

            “No, it ain’t!”  Singer was back in Sam’s face once again.  “You’re sitting around here, pretending you’re investigating, when what you’re really doing is hiding!  What are you hiding from, Sammy?  Your past?  The truth?  What’s really in your blood?  Whatever it is, it’s time to shit or get off the pot!  Because even if you didn’t know him, even if you tell yourself you don’t give a shit?  You just lost another brother!  And this time, you’re in a place to do something about it!”

            “What, exactly, do you want me to do?” Sam asked, starting to lose patience.  “I’ve already been looking into what’s going on in that town, and I keep getting blocked from above!  Your precious Council of Elders has powerful friends outside of the town.  And they’re protected inside of it!  Every elemental considers them ‘untouchable,’ and that means that even the non-elementals won’t say a word against them.  And for all the shit you’re giving me now, you’re no different!  You obviously know way more than you’re saying, Singer.  I suspect you always have.  But you won’t just tell me!  All you’ll do is drop these silly hints and hope I run with them!  The fact is, if you’d been open and honest with me right from the start?  Dean Winchester might still be alive!”

            Singer had rocked back on his heels as if he’d been struck.  “I’m the one who told you about the elementals!  I gave you the book!”

            “Yes, but then you stepped back and let me learn the truth of it for myself,” Sam pointed out.  “You’re an elemental yourself, Singer!  If you’d shown me what you were right then, I would have believed you from the start and read the book long ago.  Then I would have known it was true, gotten more into things while I was there, and made sure that they both knew those rules!  But you had to be mysterious and let me find out for myself.  Now look what happened!”

            Sam was surprised to see Singer’s face fall.  The older man’s shoulders sagged, and he suddenly appeared to have aged.  “I know I failed your brother Dean,” he agreed.  “I kept hoping those boys would call me, or come over so I could sit them down, let them know the danger.  They were right there at my place, back when they first rolled into town.  But I never asked what they were doing, and they wouldn’t have told me if I had.  I had so much time to make sure they knew The Rules.  And I didn’t do it.”  He shook his head.  “Your daddy was my friend, Sammy.  I wanted to believe John did right by those boys, even though I knew damned well he’d kidnapped the both of them and forced them into the Business.  But he didn’t tell them, and I missed my chance to rectify that.  The only thing I saw of those idjits after they were arrested was the damned car they hid in my garage, and by the time they caught Dean again, it was already too late!  Hell, I didn’t even find out they had him and were taking him to the falls until it was already over.  The Undine just acted so fast!  I get he had a vendetta against Dean after he embarrassed the police, but still!”  Singer sighed.  “That’s why I’m here, Sammy.  We lost Dean.  Now we gotta try to save Adam, and any other rogue out there who was never taught The Rules.  The Council of Elders is untouchable by anyone in that town.  You’re the only one who can stand up to them, maybe get some justice for your brother!”

            “How?  You won’t even tell me who they are, will you?  How, exactly, am I supposed to investigate their actions when I have no idea who to talk to?”

            “You want to know who’s on the Council of Elders, Sammy?” Singer asked.  “Right now, unless your mom comes to town, you’re the only non-elemental who can find out.  And if you really did read my book, you know why that is!”

            Sam thought for a moment.  “Final Justice,” he said at last.  “Next of kin has the right to be present for it.  But if it was already carried out…?”

            “Read that section again,” Singer growled.  “For now, I’ve said all I’ve got to say to you, boy.  Dean’s your brother, like it or not.  He was taken away from you, but while he was with you, he was good to you!  And he never forgot you, even if you did forget all about him!”

            “I didn’t forget him!” Sam roared.  “I never fucking forgot him, alright?  Hell, I used to fantasize that he was with me on adventures in my back yard when I was a kid!  Me and Dean, against the pirates or the ninja or whatever else I would pretend to be fighting at the time.  Even after mom remarried, I used to wonder how my life might have been, if dad and Dean were still there.  And if you must know?  I have a picture of the four of us.  It’s in a frame on my nightstand back home.  I look at them every night before I go to bed, and there’s hardly a day that goes by that I don’t regret not knowing my father and my brother.  So why don’t you just back the fuck off, alright?  Because the Dean Winchester I met isn’t anything like the one I imagined, and you’ll have to excuse me if I’m having some trouble reconciling the two!”

            Singer went quiet for a moment, and Sam could see that his words had hit home.  The older man took off his cap, rubbed at his head, and then popped the cap back on.  Then he looked up at Sam.  “Dean’s real,” he said at last.  “And now, he’s gone for real, too.  You’re the only one now who can get him some justice, Sammy.  I can’t move against the elders, but you can!  So you go back now, and read that section on Final Justice.  Look at the role of the next of kin.  Then make your move.  For Dean, and for yourself.”  The gruff face curved into a smile.  “And don’t worry, Sammy.  I won’t tell anyone you’re still here.  You can drop that bomb yourself.”

            Then Singer had simply walked out the door.  Sam had stayed as he was until he heard a rumbling noise outside.  But when he’d looked out the motel room door at the falling night there was no sign of Singer.

            He’d spent the next several hours reading, moving back and forth between Singer’s book and his notes.  And he’d finally found what he needed to know.

            After that, he’d set an alarm and gone to bed.  And he’d just fallen asleep when his phone rang.

****

            Sam was at the falls, seated comfortably on a large rock at sunrise when the four elders appeared.  “Hi there!” he called cheerfully, waving.  “I’m Sam Winchester.  I’m here as next of kin to witness the completion of Final Justice.”

            “I am Sylph,” the old woman replied, not missing a beat.  “This is Pygmy with me.  That is Undine, and Salamander.”

            Sam smiled brightly.  He was enjoying the looks on the faces of Daly and Crowley maybe a bit too much to be professional.  The police chief’s face was set into a grimace of surprise, while the King of Hell looked as if he’d just bitten into an apple and discovered half a worm.  “We’ve already met, haven’t we?” he called, getting to his feet.  “Nice to see you gentlemen again!”

            “Charmed, I’m sure,” Crowley growled.

            “We’ll talk later,” Daly promised.  “For now, we have a duty to perform.  As next of kin, you have the right to be present when we bring him up.  But your role is to watch only.  You don’t interfere.  Am I clear?”

            “Oh, absolutely!”

            “Then let’s begin,” Sylph said.  She moved forward and linked her arm through Sam’s.  “As Lead Elder, I have the solemn duty of declaring Final Justice carried out.  This is your brother?”  When Sam nodded, she continued.  “It is our custom to burn the body.  As you see, Undine is unlocking the chain now.  He’ll push back the water once he’s finished.  Next, Pygmy will raise the body on an earthen pyre, bring it to shore.  I’ll dry it, and then Salamander will burn it.  After, you can do as you wish with the ashes.  Do you understand?”

            “Yeah.”  Sam swallowed hard.  He hadn’t known Winchester, but what Singer had told him last night stuck with him.  His brother was really gone, and now he was about to be present at his funeral pyre.  He hadn’t expected the trepidation he was feeling now.  Dean had been underwater all night.  What would he even look like now?

            He was about to find out.

            Daly stood at the edge of the water and gestured.  The water moved back in a wave, leaving behind an expanse of mud and confused fish.  The water continued to move back, the pit that held the pool opening up along a narrow channel along the length of the chain.

            Then it reached the end.

            Five people stared in shocked silence at the empty set of handcuffs that had been locked onto the metal ring set into the boulder at the bottom of the pool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun says he knew Dean wasn’t dead. Still says Bobby saved him, even after this chapter, because he knew Sam didn’t want anything to do with him, but Dean needed him to be at his side. Says it’s a clever ruse. It should be noted that Mr. Fun’s guesses as to who saved Dean so far have included Adam, Cass, Bobby, and even Gwen, although the last one was probably a joke.


	34. Under Protection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After learning what Sammy saw at the falls, Blake looks for a way to get Adam safely out of the town

            [Blake blinked his eyes open, immediately aware of the warm pressure against his chest.](https://funtimewriter.tumblr.com/post/163811915467/legentias-at-it-again-i-love-the-little-cartoon) He glanced down and smiled fondly when he saw the head of dark hair tucked under his chin.  Then he realized what had awakened him and reached for the phone.  “Yeah?”

            “Blake?  It’s Agent Sam Winchester.”

            “Sammy?”  Blake glanced around, noting the time.  It was just after 0600.

            “So I met your famous Council of Elders,” Sammy explained.  “Just so you know, your boss flat-out asked me before I left how I knew to come down.  I told him you called me as next of kin.”

            “That’s my job as lead detective, to notify the next of kin in the event of the death of a suspect,” Blake said.  “So that’s fine.  What did you find out, buddy?”

            Adam, of course, was awake now.  He shivered and shifted, pressing himself closer against Blake.  Blake tightened his arm around him.

            “Well, we all got quite the surprise when your boss rolled the water back,” Sammy explained.  “By the way, did you know he was an undine?”

            “Of course I knew!  Most of us at the station are!  Every cop but Cass, if you must know.”

            “So…  You’re an undine?”

            “Yes, I’m an undine,” Blake said patiently.  “Now, what happened?  What was the surprise at the pool?”

            “Dean wasn’t there,” Sammy told him.

            “What?!”

            “Like I said, Dean wasn’t there,” Sammy repeated.  “Just a pair of handcuffs at the end of the chain, locked to that ring under the water.  No Dean.  Someone must have gotten to him in the night and taken him.  Do you have any idea who, or why?”

            “Your guess is as good as mine,” Blake replied, puzzled.

            “And Levine was with you all night?  You’re absolutely certain that he never left your custody?”

            “Absolutely certain.  He was with me all night.”  Blake’s eyes were locked on Adam, who was looking back up at him.  The smaller man was close enough to have hard what Sammy was saying, and his hazel eyes had filled with hope.  _Beautiful._   Blake managed to tear his eyes away, looking at the ceiling so he could focus on his conversation.  “What are you going to do, Sammy?”

            “I’m going to find my brother, that’s what I’m going to do,” Sammy declared.  “I’d love to bring those four elders up on murder charges, but that would mean trying to explain elementals in court.  And I’ve come to realize that you guys have certain friends in high places.  It’s no wonder you just blurted out what’s going on in this town instead of trying to hide it.  You’re all damned near immune from legal action, aren’t you?”

            “It’s more because if you try to hide a secret like that, someone like you just gets more determined to ferret it out,” Blake explained.  “We learned a while back that the best way to deal with outside investigations was to tell the truth and let them make of it what they will.”  Blake dared to glance down.  Adam was still looking at him.  His eyes were bright now, and a small smile was on his lips.  Blake tore his eyes away again.  “Alright, Sammy, this is your show.  What do you want me to do?”

            “Do you still have Levine in your custody?”

            “Yeah, he’s right here.”  He smiled down at Adam, whose smile widened in return.

            “Alright.  The most important thing is to keep him safe,” Sammy instructed.  “Right now, he’s the key to this whole thing.  Is there anywhere you could take him, where you could keep him away from prying eyes?”

            “Actually, yes,” Blake said.  “Cass and I…”  Blake’s arm tightened around Adam until Adam winced and squirmed.  “I need to check on my partner.  He’s been in a bad way about your brother, Sammy.  I spoke with him last night, and he basically ordered me to back off of him.  But I was going to head over there first thing this morning.”

            “Do it fast, Blake.  Can your partner be trusted?”

            “I’d trust Cass with my life.”

            “Then bring him in.  He can help you watch Levine.  You’ve got to keep him safe!”

            Blake looked fondly at Adam.  “Don’t worry.  We’ll keep him safe.  What are you going to do?”

            “I need to interview Crowley.”

            That made Blake frown.  “You be careful with him!  The last thing we need is for something to happen to you.  Your family has already lost enough sons.”

            That earned Blake an uncomfortably long silence from Sammy’s end.  “I didn’t know either of my brothers,” Sammy said at last.  “But as someone recently pointed out to me, they’re still my family, and that means I owe them something.  If what Cass told me about Adam Milligan was true, and I’ve got no reason to think it’s not, then I can understand what happened to him.  But Dean?  Dean didn’t deserve it, Blake.  And I’m going to see to it that he gets justice.”

            Blake smiled softly.  “Glad to hear it Sammy.  You be careful now, ya hear?  I’m going to go see Cass and bring him onboard.  Call me as soon as you’re done with Crowley.”

            “Alright.  I’ll talk to you then.  And Blake?”

            “Yeah, buddy?”

            “Don’t tell Daly anything,” Sam warned.  “I can’t prove it, but there are a few things about him that don’t add up.  Something’s wrong there.  I’m going to find out what.  Until then, don’t tell him you’ve got Levine, and don’t let your partner say anything, either.”

            “Got it.”  Blake was frowning as he hung up.  He was loyal to the Undine and didn’t like keeping things from him.  But he’d already agreed to play this Sam’s way.  He’d apologize to Carson later.

            The hazel eyes were solemn again as Adam looked up at him.  Blake had tried to do the right thing last night.  Sammy had advised him to keep Adam with him, and that’s what Blake had done.  It was clear to Blake that Sammy had intended for him to keep Adam prisoner.  But Blake couldn’t bring himself to treat the broken young man in his care like a prisoner.  Instead, he’d left Adam’s hands free, leaving both cuffs locked onto one of his wrists to keep his powers under control.  Then he’d tucked the exhausted salamander into his bed.  Blake had brought out his sleeping bag and a throw pillow from the couch, fully intending to camp out just outside the bedroom door.  But he hadn’t been there five minutes before Adam called him inside in a panic, begging for Blake to stay with him.  Blake had only intended to stay a few minutes, just long enough for Adam to calm down and fall asleep.  But Adam had pulled him down into the bed, asking could Blake please just hold him?  So, against his better judgement, Blake had climbed in, wrapping his arms around Adam.  And Adam had finally relaxed, pressing up against Blake’s chest.  He’d felt so good.  The next thing Blake knew he’d fallen asleep, and was waking up to the sound of his phone with Adam still wrapped in his arms.

            Blake climbed quickly out of bed and dialed Cass’s number.  It rang several times and then went to voice mail.  Alarmed, he dialed again.  Same thing.  “Fuck!  Come on, Adam.  We need to get over to Cass’s and make sure he’s alright.”

            “Blake, do you think it was him?” Adam was asking.  “Do you think Cass saved Dean?”

            “Adam, baby, don’t get your hopes up, ok?” Blake cautioned.  He hopped around on one leg, pulling up his jeans.  “Even if Cass went to the falls, got Dean out before you got there?  There’s no guarantee Dean’s alive.  They dragged him underwater and locked him down, remember?”  He sighed.  “Although, if anyone I know could have gotten him out and spirited him off right under the noses of a group of cops?  Cass is the one.”

            The way Adam’s face lit up made Blake feel warm all over.  Impulsively, Blake pulled him closer and planted a kiss on his on the top of his head.  Adam laughed and pushed at him, and Blake let him go.

            Adam shimmied into his skinny jeans with enviable ease, considering how tight they were, and pulled on his motorcycle boots.  “Why are you so worried about Cass?”

            “Cass tried to kill himself once, back when his boyfriend robbed and left him,” Blake explained as he donned his cowboy boots.  “The son of a bitch brought Cass down lower than anyone had ever seen him, made him feel like shit, made him totally dependent, and then took him for all he had.  Poor guy hasn’t been able to let himself get into a serious relationship with someone ever since.  So when Dean did what he did…?”

            Adam winced.  “Sorry.  Dean was just trying to get us out of jail.”

            “Oh, I get that.  And I’m still not sorry I punched him in the face for it.”

            Adam shrugged into his jacket and shoved his hands into the pockets as he stood close to Blake.  “Dean’s no angel,” he began, “but honestly, he’s not much different than Cass.  Dean never was able to really be in a relationship with anyone.  After a while, he stopped trying.  Now he won’t let anyone near him because he’s pretty much convinced no one will ever stay with him.  All he’s got is a series of one-night stands.”

            “Like my wife?”  Blake’s voice was soft.

            Adam grimaced and shifted uncomfortably.  “Yeaaaah.  I forgot all about her, honestly.  Where is she?”

            “Gone.  We’re getting a divorce.  And I know you were with her too, Adam.”

            “Oh.”  Adam eyed the larger man.  “You gonna punch me in the face?” he asked in a small voice.

            “Do you want me to?”

            “Not really?  You’re kind of big.”

            Blake snorted.  “I’m not going to hit you, Adam.  I think you’ve been through enough.  Besides, the first time you and I got together, I was still married to her, so that would be pretty damned hypocritical of me, wouldn’t it?”

            “Oh.”

            Blake glanced at him and rolled his eyes.  “Did anyone ever tell you you’re a lousy actor?  What is that expression, anyway?  Half serious and half shit-eating grin!”

            Adam squirmed.  “Sorry.  I can’t help how I feel, but I am sorry your marriage is over.”

            Blake waved a hand.  “It’s ok, buddy.  It still hurts, sure, but I honestly got over it a while back.  All that was left was my own denial, and I pretty much ditched that the day I met you in the bar.”

            Adam shyly ducked his head.  “So, am I your rebound, then?”

            “You’re my something,” Blake sighed.  “I’m not sure what.”

            Adam grabbed the lapels of Blake’s shirt and pulled him around.  When Blake looked down in surprise, Adam threw his arms around his neck and kissed him.  Blake’s arms were around him immediately.  He pulled Adam tight against himself, leaning into the kiss.  But then he regretfully drew back.  “We can’t do this, not now,” he said.  "I gotta make sure you’re safe.  That means I gotta get you out of here.”

            Adam looked disappointed.  “Later?”

            Blake gave him another quick kiss.  “Definitely.  Now come on.”

            Adam trotted after Blake as the larger man started downstairs.  “You’re not going to arrest me, are you?” he called.

            “I already arrested you!”

            “But you didn’t take me in,” Adam pointed out.  “You cuffed me and read me my rights, but you didn’t lock me up.  And then you let me go.  Well,” he amended, looking at the cuffs on his wrist, “you mostly let me go.  How about taking these off of me, Big Country?”

            “Soon,” Blake promised.  “It’s not that I don’t trust you, Rockstar.  If you wanted to escape or cause me any harm, you had ample opportunity to do so last night.  But based on what you told me, about how you lose control of your powers when you get upset?  I think it’s best we leave those on until we know exactly what happened to your buddy Dean.  Alright?”

            Adam nodded.  “Alright.”  He played with the cuffs a bit.  “What’s the next step?”

            “Sammy has something in mind for your boss Crowley,” Blake growled.  “And meanwhile, I need to be sure you won’t get taken to the falls.”  He gathered up his keys.  “Sammy said to keep you with me for now.”

            “So, you’ve been ordered by the FBI to spend time with me?”  Adam had fallen into step next to Blake and was grinning up at him.  “How convenient!”

            Blake rolled his eyes.  “It’s not like that, ya jackass!”

            “I can believe whatever I want to believe, asshole!”

            Blake shook his head.  He was heading for the door when he suddenly stopped, throwing his arm out in front of Adam, who nearly clotheslined himself.  “Hold it.  If anyone sees you, it’s game over!  And Carson probably believes you’re the one who took Dean!  He’s probably got every cop in town out looking for you.”

            “Alright, I’ll keep my head down,” Adam promised.  “Once we find Dean, we’ll hide out somewhere until you and Cass get with Sammy and decide what to do.  Then…”

            Blake turned and took Adam’s shoulders.  “Adam, I do not want you to get your hopes up, ok?”

            “But Cass could have saved Dean!  You said so!”

            “I said if anyone could have done it, Cass is the one.  But that’s assuming that anyone could have done it,” Blake pointed out.  “Dean would have been dragged into the water and chained down there by a group of cops.  Cops, Adam, who were out there specifically to kill him!”  Seeing the light fade in Adam’s eyes, Blake sighed and pulled him close into a hug.  “I’m sorry, buddy.  I just don’t want you to believe something that isn’t true.  Even if Cass did manage to save Dean, he’s probably not in the best condition right now.  And no matter what, if Cass in any way interfered with Final Justice?  That means Cass is in trouble now, too!  The Council of Elders made a decision.  You don’t go against them, no matter what!”

            “You know what?  I’m pretty damned sick of that bullshit about the elders being untouchable,” Adam complained.  “What are they going to do if Cass gave them the finger and rescued Dean, huh?  Shun him?  Put him in the stocks and pelt him with rotten fruit?”

            Blake’s lips disappeared into a thin line.  “Let’s just go and make sure he’s alright, ok?  We should…”

            Both men froze, hearing the sound of a car pulling into Blake’s driveway.  With a sinking heart, Blake peered through the sheer curtains and recognized Carson’s car.  “Shit!  He can’t see you, Adam!”

            “What do I do, Blake?”  Adam asked anxiously.

            “We gotta hide you somewhere,” Blake replied, looking frantically around.  “There’s gotta be a way we can get you out and through the town without anyone seeing you!”  His eyes fell on a closet door, and his face brightened.  “I got an idea!  C’mere!”

            Adam reluctantly came closer.  Somehow, he didn’t like the look in Blake’s eye.

****

            Carson knocked on the door and was greeted by a loud “Be right there!” from inside.  Good.  Blake was awake.  Carson had been afraid the detective would still be in bed.  But he supposed that none of them had really gotten much sleep last night.

            Blake arrived at the door, fully dressed in casual clothes.  “Hey, boss!  What’s up?”

            “Blake?  We’ve got a problem,” Carson began.  “Can I come in?”

            “Sure thing,” Blake said, pushing the door open.  “I’d offer you some coffee, but I didn’t bother with making any this morning.”

            “It’s been a rough night, and it hasn’t been a good morning, either.”  Carson paused in the living room, taking note of the camping equipment on the floor.  “You taking Cass out into the great outdoors?”

            “Yup,” Blake announced.  “I figured he could use it.  He can get away from everything to do with Dean Winchester and the Fat Boys and Final Justice and get his head straightened out.  Maybe I can even get him to talk to me.”

            “You were there for him when Justin pulled his shit,” Carson agreed.  “You’ve got a better chance than anyone else of helping him now.”  He stepped over a rolled-up tarp Blake was tying shut and picked up Blake’s camp stove and mess kit.  “This is a really good idea.”

            “Thanks!”  Blake tied the last knot securing the tarp.  “You don’t have to help me with this.  I got it.”

            “I don’t mind at all.”  Carson added Blake’s sleeping bag to his load.

            “Suit yourself.”  Blake collected the bulky tarp and led the way to the garage, where his truck waited.  “So what’s on your mind?” he asked, pushing the tarp into the back of the truck.

            “The Council of Elders went down to the falls this morning, and Agent Winchester was waiting for us,” Carson explained.  “I didn’t even know the bastard was back in town.  Did you know anything about it?”

            “I called him,” Blake confessed.  He took the equipment from Carson and loaded it into the truck as well.  “That’s my job.  Yeah, he’s a damned fibbie, but he’s next of kin, Carson.  I told him his brother had drowned in the falls.  Why?  Shouldn’t I have done that?  It’s S.O.P.!”

            “No, you did what you should have done” Carson corrected, following Blake back into the house.  “The problem was that he was at the falls right when we came to retrieve Winchester.  And somehow, he got there knowing all about Final Justice.  Probably Singer and his damned book!”

            Blake frowned.  “Ok, that is a problem.  He knows about Milligan, but there wasn’t anything he could prove there to bring charges.  If he saw you bring Winchester up, though?  That’s a different story.”  Blake loaded more equipment into his boss’s arms, and then gathered more himself.  “Think he’s going to pursue it, try to make a murder case?”

            “He can’t,” Carson told him.  “We tried to send him away, but he knew all about the falls and insisted on being present when his brother was brought up.  He had every right to be there, of course.  So he was right there with us when I pushed back the water and we found what was attached to the other end of that chain, or rather what wasn’t there!”

            “What do you mean?”

            Carson irritably threw the equipment he was carrying into the back of the truck.  “I mean Winchester wasn’t there!”

            Blake winced as the equipment thudded into the truck bed.  “What?  What do you mean?”

            “Someone hooked the cuffs to the ring at the bottom of the pool to make it seem like the body was still down there,” Carson explained.  He took Blake’s load and began throwing it into the truck as well, not noticing the way Blake winced as each item slammed down.  “But Winchester’s gone, Blake.”

            “Well, damn!  Ain’t that a kick in the nuts?”  Blake went back into the house, with Carson following close behind.  “Why the hell would anyone steal a body?”

            “No idea.  But it had to have been Levine!  He must have gone back last night and pulled him out.”

            “Yeah, I guess so.”  Blake took a pack from the closet and moved upstairs to the bedroom, where he began stuffing clothing into the pack.  “Little bastard!  What the hell would he do something like that for?”

            “Who knows?” Carson grumbled.  The chief had followed Blake and was leaning irritably against the bedroom door.  His arms were crossed over his chest, and the index finger of one hand tapped a steady rhythm on his elbow.  “At any rate, this damned agent is up my ass, wanting a shit ton of information I can’t give him.  He’s even asking for the minutes from the Council meeting when the decision for Final Justice was made!  I knew we should have sanctioned Singer, made him stop publishing that damned book!”  He shook his head in disgust.

            “Damn,” Blake said, zipping the pack and hoisting it over one shoulder.  “Sounds like this agent’s serious about this.”

            “How do you like this guy, Blake?” Carson complained as he followed Blake back downstairs.  “When Winchester was alive and in custody, he didn’t even want to see him.  Now that he’s dead, you’d think he was the most important person in that overly tall bastard’s life!  No offense, big guy.”

            “None taken.”  Blake headed through to the garage, locking the house door behind them.

            “The way he’s carrying on, though!  I mean, he has to know that he can’t take this to court!  Even if he didn’t get laughed out of the courtroom the moment he said the word ‘elemental,’ we’ve got too much pull straight up the line.  But now he’s gone to meet with Crowley!”  A sneer twisted his mouth.  “Crowley, of all people!  What the hell could he want with that son of a bitch?”

            “No idea.”  Blake adjusted the equipment in the back of his truck.  “What do you want to do about it, boss?”

            “First order of business is to find that bastard Levine!”  Carson spat the name like a curse.  “We need him in custody yesterday, dammit!  If Agent Winchester gets his hands on him first, that could very well mean the end of our entire way of life, Blake.”

            Blake produced some bungee cords.  “Any chance Dean Winchester might be alive?” he asked as he worked to untangle them.

            “Blake, you of all people know how it is when Final Justice is done to a salamander,” Carson replied.  “I can’t imagine how Levine could have gotten Winchester out of that pool alive, not unless he was somehow at the falls with scuba gear!  But I’d bet good money that Levine’s the one who made off with his body.  I checked around and found footprints in the mud out there.  Looked like they could have been made by those motorcycle boots Levine had on when he was in custody.  No doubt in my mind that scrawny little pretty boy was out there last night.  And that means that wherever Levine is, Winchester’s there, too.  Those two seemed pretty damned cozy together.  Wouldn’t surprise me to find out they were lovers.”

            “Alright, I’ll keep my eyes peeled for them.”  Blake managed to untangle the cords and tossed the ends over the bed of his truck to Carson.

            “You just take care of Cass.  Any word from him?  I tried calling him, but he’s not answering his phone.”

            “I know,” Blake said, securing his end of the cords.  “I tried it, too.  That’s why I’m in a rush here, buddy.  I need to get out there.  Then he’s got no excuse not to come with me.  I’ll grab his clothes and sleeping bag and some food, then we’re gone.”

            Carson smiled.  “Go get him, buddy.  Don’t worry about this shit we’ve got going on now, ok?  I just wanted to get you up to date.  Cass is way more important.”

            “You sure, boss?  This is the biggest case Elemental Falls has ever seen.  You really ok with both of your detectives being gone right at the end of it?”

            “You two are surprisingly good with getting your paperwork in,” Carson assured.  He pulled the final bungee cord taut with a hard yank before securing it.  “I can handle it.  I’ll let this whole case be taken over by the fibbies rather than lose one of my detectives.  You get Cass back on his feet, and I’ll cover things here.  Just get me some updates when you get back in cell range, ok?”

            “You got it.”

            Carson suddenly came around the back of the truck and caught Blake in a tight hug.  “Take care of Cass, Blake.  If you guys need anything, call me, ok?”

            “Sure,” Blake replied, touched.  A pang of guilt went through him.  Carson was not, in general, a hands-on type.  Blake couldn’t remember the last time his boss had hugged him while sober.  “Good luck finding Levine.”

            “Oh, I’ll find the son of a bitch!  Don’t you worry,” Carson assured.  “Go get Cass.”  He thumped Blake twice on the back and then turned with a wave.  “See you later!”

            “Alright!”  Blake waved back and climbed into his truck.  Carson beeped his horn as he pulled away, and Blake beeped back.  Then he drove off.

            Cass’s place wasn’t far, and soon Blake was pulling into the driveway.  He hopped out of his truck, keyed in the code for Cass’s garage, and waited for the door to open.  Cass’s Prius was missing.  That meant Cass probably wasn’t in the house.  Odd.  Maybe the house would hold some clue as to where he’d gone?

            Blake got back to his truck, pulled it into the garage, and closed the door.  Once it was closed, he quickly moved to the back of the truck.  “You ok, buddy?”

            “Get me the fuck out of this thing, Blake!” Adam yelled, his voice muffled.  The tarp wiggled, and the end banged on the bed of the truck.  “Get me out!”

            “Alright, calm down, I’m coming!”  Blake started loosening the bungee cords, but he couldn’t help but chuckle.  “You know, you’ve got to be the noisiest piece of camping equipment I’ve ever had in this truck!”

            “I’m not camping equipment!  I hate camping!  Fucking let me out, dammit!  And what the hell did you and Carson do, use me as target practice?  I swear you were throwing rocks at me!  I’ve got bruises!”

            Adam continued to complain and curse, squirming frantically in the tarp.  Blake could only shake his head and chuckle some more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun groaned about the "mushy stuff" with Blake and Adam together. Thought the tarp thing was very funny. Enjoyed Blake being all nonchalant with Carson


	35. I'll Take Care Of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cass risks everything to follow his conscience and his heart. But he's not taking any chances.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I pulled up the episode featuring what must be Cass's most famous line ever and showed it to Mr. Fun. Still an awesome freaking episode and one of my favorite moments in this show! For those who have never seen it, it's here:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dZ9HvhteCDc

            Cass looked up at the wavery surface of the water.  He released the last of his breath, watching the silvery bubbles rise and break on the surface while the pressure in his lungs continued to grow.  Finally, he sat up with a gasp.

            Yes, he decided, drowning was a terrible way to die.

            He’d kept his phone near him, and when it rang, he didn’t have to look to know it was Blake.  It always touched him, how much his best friend and partner cared about him.  But right now, he couldn’t afford to have Blake come over, no matter how much he might want him there.

            Being cold to Blake when all he was being was kind wasn’t easy.  But Cass forced himself to do it.  He had no other choice.  Blake couldn’t be a part of this.  He gruffly spurned Blake’s offer to help and did the same when the other detective started texting.  That made him feel terrible.  But in the end, it was for Blake’s own good.  Blake would never be punished for what Cass had done.  He refused to drag the big, gentle man down with him.  Cass had chosen his path alone, and he would see it to the end alone.

            Cass climbed out of his bathtub and let it drain.  He’d cleaned the worst of the mess off of himself before getting into the tub.  Now that he’d had a good soak, he smelled much better as well.  At least he’d had the presence of mind to remove his beloved trench coat before he’d acted.  That had spared it the mud and stomach contents that had destroyed the rest of his clothes.  Everything, from his shirt to his shoes, had been ruined.  It had all gone into a bag that had been tossed into the large plastic can on his back porch.  Now he toweled off and dressed again.

            It wasn’t until he was adjusting his tie that he realized just how absurd he was being.  Why was he in a suit and tie?  Who was he trying to impress?  Irritated, he tugged his tie loose, about to pull it off.  No one could even see him!  Except, of course…

            A weak cry came from the guest bedroom.

            Cass was instantly in motion, racing across the hall and into the other room.  But the cry wasn’t repeated.  Cass sat down next to the bed.  He put his elbows on his knees and rested his chin in his hands.  His eyes were fixed on Dean Winchester as he lay, his face flushed and feverish on the bed.  Cass had cleaned him up as best as he was able.  Dean’s clothes were as ruined as his own, but Cass had dressed him in a comfortable set of sweat pants and an old t-shirt.  Now he just needed to wake up.

            _Please, please wake up!_

            He’d almost been too late.  By the time Cass had arrived at the falls, Dean had already been chained up and was being dragged into the water.  Cass had come in on foot, moving stealthily through the woods, avoiding the undines who had come to exercise Final Justice.  He’d gone into the narrow gap behind the falls and waited.  Watching and doing nothing while Dean was dragged underwater had been the hardest thing he’d ever done.  But Cass hadn’t had a choice.  If Carson and the other undines spotted him, it would all be over.

            As soon as Dean was down and the undines were focused on locking the chain around the tree instead of the water, Cass slipped into the water behind the falls.  He’d battled the current until he found the drowning salamander, just as the last air in Dean’s lungs was bubbling to the surface.  He’d been dreaming about pressing his lips to that mouth.  But the first time Cass had actually done it was to save Dean’s life, breathing air into him while deep under the water.  Dean was already unconscious when Cass undid the cuffs, rapidly locking them onto the ring to give the illusion of a body at the end of the chain.  Then he’d taken Dean back behind the falls and out of the water, dragging the unconscious man onto the narrow ledge few people knew about, just behind the falls.

            Only then could he let Dean down, make sure he was breathing.  Only then could he be sure that Dean was still alive.

            It had been close, too close for comfort.  Dean’s lips were blue.  His skin was cold and, while he still had a pulse, it was so rapid that Cass was sure his heart would soon stop out of sheer exhaustion.  Cass had breathed for Dean a few more times before the battered salamander finally coughed the water out of his lungs.  Then he’d waited, holding Dean tightly behind the falls as he’d gasped and panted.  When the salamander’s eyes fluttered opened, Cass had thought, at first, that he’d be alright.  But then Dean had gurgled and was noisily sick.  Only the roar of the waterfall had kept them hidden, especially when Dean, confused and disoriented, started struggling against Cass, calling out for Adam.  Cass tried desperately to quiet him.  But Dean was in a panic.  He couldn't seem to catch his breath, and his eyes rolled wildly as he tried to squirm away.  “Don’t!” he’d gasped, pushing weakly at Cass.  “Don’t drown me!”

            “I’m not one of the people who tried to drown you,” Cass assured him.  “I’m the one who gripped you tight, and raised you from perdition.”

            “Dude, that’s corny as fuck,” Dean mumbled.  Even as he spoke, his eyes had fluttered closed once more.

            By tradition, those who carried out Final Justice never took their victim’s body away.  That was a task reserved for the elders.  Cass had almost panicked when Carson had moved forward, thinking the Undine would move the water to retrieve Dean’s body and discover Cass’s treachery.  But all he’d done was give the traditional call – “Final Justice is done!”  And then, at last, the murderous undines had left.

            After that, it was a matter of carrying a heavy, sodden, semi-conscious man alone, back through the woods to where he’d hidden his car.  By the time he’d finally dumped his precious burden into the back seat and hastily covered him with his trench coat, Cass was wet and shivering, his back singing in pain.  But he’d still had to carry Dean into his house through the garage once he was home, and up the stairs to the bedroom.

            Since then, Cass had tended to his patient.  Dean was, at the best of times, semi-conscious.  He’d thrown up three more times, although Cass was prepared for it after the initial one.  He hadn’t been prepared, though, for the pink froth Dean kept coughing up, or the raging fever he developed.  And Dean still didn't seem able to catch his breath.  His heart continued to race, and he shivered constantly.  Cass was able to get some acetaminophen into him, even a bit of broth.  But the battered salamander was exhausted and quickly passed out again.  According to the fever tape Cass had stuck to his forehead, his fever had spiked to 103.

            Cass’s biggest concern was that Dean wouldn’t open his eyes.  Even when he’d been at his most lucid, when he’d struggled against the memory of his assailants and called for his friend Adam over and over, his eyes had only barely opened.  Cass had no medical training.  He had no idea what to do, and didn’t know anyone he could ask for advice.  But he didn’t dare take Dean to a hospital.  If he did, they’d discover that Dean had escaped.  Besides, a large percentage of the hospital staff in Elemental Falls was undine.  If he went to a hospital, they’d report it to the police, who would finish the job of drowning Dean and probably punish Cass, as well.  In Elemental Falls, the elementals policed their own and the rest of the town stood back.  Once the Council of Elders had ordered Final Justice on Dean Winchester, he was as good as dead.  And when he, Cass, had defied their wishes and rescued Dean, he too had become subject to their justice.  No one in town would help them.  There was nowhere to hide.  Cass was on his own.

            Clearly, a change of scenery was required.

            Cass hated to have to leave Elemental Falls, where his family and everyone he’d ever known lived and worked.  But he wouldn’t, couldn’t, let them destroy Dean.  It didn’t make sense to him.  Dean was the physical embodiment of everything Cass stood against, a criminal with no regard for the law.  Worse, he was a rogue elemental!  Was he really worth giving up everything Cass had ever known for?

            His mind said no.  But his heart said something very different.

            What was it about this beautiful man, that Cass had risked everything to save him?  He barely knew him, but lately Dean was all he could think about.  It wasn’t just that Dean was beautiful, although he certainly was.  Even now, with his cheeks flushed from fever and the rest of his face so pale his freckles stood out in stark contrast, Cass could barely tear his eyes away.  Dean was like a drug that sank in through his pores.  He couldn’t get enough.  Just the thought of him was enough to make Cass’s heart skip a beat.  And now here he was, lying in Cass’s guest bed.

            As the night went on, Dean got worse and worse.  He was thrashing restlessly now, straining to get out of bed.  For his own protection, Cass had been forced to use the salamander cuffs from the collection he’d gotten from Carson.  He’d only cuffed one of Dean’s hands, but he’d attached that hand to the bedpost.  Now he was glad he’d done it.  Dean, still not really opening his eyes, kept trying to climb out of bed and fighting against the restraint.  “Let me go!” he'd groaned.  “Adam!  Please, where are you?”

           Cass could do nothing to comfort him.  Finally, he’d taken his hand and held it tight.  Dean had clung to him.  “Adam?”

            “I’m here,” Cass had soothed.  “You’ll be alright.  Just sleep.”

            Cass knew his voice was nothing like Adam Levine’s.  But Dean’s body had finally relaxed, dropping into the sleep he so desperately needed.

            Of course, that was when Blake called again.  Cass had been forced to hold his hand over Dean’s mouth to keep him quiet until he could get off the phone.  And that had sent him right back into his panic.  Cass had hung up as quickly as he could and moved to comfort his patient.  “It’s alright,” he soothed.  “You’re safe.  I’ll take care of you.”

            “Safe?”  The green eyes were half-open.  They looked glazed as he peered out at Cass.

            Cass brought Dean’s hand up to his lips.  “Yes.  Safe.  I’ll take care of you, Dean.  I swear it.”

            Did Dean give a small smile, or had Cass imagined it?  He was sure he didn’t imagine the way Dean squeezed his hand.

            Cass stayed where he was, in the chair, holding Dean’s hand.  He snoozed off and on during the night, but mostly he watched and worried.  Dean was young, strong and healthy.  He’d be alright.  He’d get through this.  The fever tape was already down to 100.  Soon, he’d wake up, and Cass could talk to him.  He desperately wanted that!  But until then, all Cass could do was sit there watching him, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, watch as his eyelids fluttered open and the bleary green eyes peered out at him…

            _Dean had opened his eyes!_

            Cass sucked in his breath.  “Dean!  You’re awake!”

            “Adam?”  His voice was scratchy and he coughed harshly.  He grimaced and blinked again.  “Adam!”

            “Adam?  Oh, Levine.  He’s not here.”  Cass hesitated.  “He’s your boyfriend?”

            “No, he’s…”  Dean coughed again, cleared his throat.  “None of your business!  Where is he?  Who are you?  Where am I?  What happened?”

            Cass got up and moved to sit on the edge of the bed.  He gently squeezed Dean’s hand.  “I’m not sure where Levine is.  But I’m Cass, Cass Novak.  Do you remember me?”

            Dean slowly blinked.  “I…  Yeah.  You’re that cop.  Angel Eyes.”

            “Yes, that’s right.”  The familiar nickname brought a smile to Cass’s lips.  “I took you home with me after I rescued you from the undines.  They tried to drown you, Dean.  Final Justice.  Do you remember?”

            “What?  Final Justice?  Drown me?”  He frowned in confusion.  Then he stiffened as memory returned.  Dean sat upright in the bed, jerked his hand away from Cass, and turned to stare at his right hand, which was still cuffed to the post of the bed.  He pulled on the cuff and looked, wide-eyed, at Cass.  “Let me go!”

            “Listen, I can explain that,” Cass began.

            “I don’t want you to explain, I want you to let me go!  What the hell did you do to me?”  Dean looked down at himself, seeing the unfamiliar clothes, the bed he was lying in, and Cass again trying to take his hand.  “Leave me alone!” he yelled jerking his hand away.  He pulled again on the cuff, twisting it on his wrist.  “Let me go, dammit!”

            “I won’t hurt you, Dean.  I rescued you!  You were sentenced to Final Justice by the Council of Elders for breaking The Rules,” Cass explained.  “That’s why the undines were drowning you at the falls.”

            “What?  Those bastards tortured me!  Then they took me out to the falls, dragged me underwater, and kept me down there.  I thought I was dead!  How’d I end up here?”  He paused, scowling down at himself.  “And what the hell am I wearing?”

            “I got you out, brought you here.  I used the little ledge behind the waterfall, where I used to hide from the bullies as a child.”

            Dean blinked, his expression softening for a moment.  “Bullies?  And you used that knowledge to rescue me?”

            “You almost died, Dean,” Cass explained patiently.  He’d given up on taking Dean’s hand and simply sat on the edge of the bed with his own hands folded in his lap.  “You were very sick last night.  I cleaned you up and got you into some dry clothes, and then I took care of you all night.  That’s all that happened,” he stressed.  “I didn’t hurt you, or do anything inappropriate.”

            “Except chain me to your bed!” Dean retorted, tugging at the cuffs.

            “You’ve proven to me that you cannot be trusted,” Cass pointed out.  “And you’re a rogue salamander.”

            “Why?” Dean challenged, still trying to pull his hand free from the cuff.  “Where the hell do you get off, calling me a rogue?”

            “You broke The Rules, Dean.”

            “What rules?  Everyone keeps talking about these rules!  I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

            “You used your powers in a way that drew attention to what you were,” Cass explained.  “You committed arson, and you hurt people.  You hurt me.”

            “Dude, to be fair, you were kicking the shit out of me before I did that,” Dean pointed out.  “You really are awesome with the martial arts!”  He paused.  “Look, I’m sorry I hurt you, ok?  I didn’t mean it, but I didn’t see that I had much of a choice.  Even so, I still say it’s bullshit that I get punished for using my powers, but those fucking undines could use theirs to torture me?”

            “They shouldn’t have done that,” Cass agreed.  “Undine’s going to see them punished for it.”

            “And they knew about these rules!” Dean stressed.  “I’m getting murdered for breaking rules I knew nothing about!”

            “You were caught in the act of burning through a safe and destroying records,” Cass reminded him.  “While you may not have known The Rules, I’m fairly certain that willful arson isn’t deemed acceptable by any applicable laws, rules, or regulations.  Now you’ve sweated the fever tape off again.  Hold still, and I’ll…”

            Dean swung at Cass as Cass reached for him, making the detective jump quickly back.  “Don’t touch me!  Get the hell way from me!”

            “Dean.  I’m only trying to help you.”

            “Yeah, well, excuse me for not trusting you!  Your fellow undines just tortured and tried to kill me, so I’m not really in a trusting sort of mood!”

            “I’m not an undine.  And you’re sick, and hurt.  You need help.  Let me help you.”

            “You want to help me?”  Dean jerked hard on the cuffs.  “Then let me go!  These are these stupid runed cuffs again, aren’t they?  I know without even seeing the runes because they’re fucking freezing!”

            “They only feel cold to you because you’re a salamander.”  He reached towards Dean again.  “Dean…”

            Dean swung at him again.  “Let me _go_!”

            “No.  I didn’t risk everything to save you just to let you get yourself killed, Dean.  And if you don’t calm down down, I’ll lock your other arm down, too.”

            The green eyes glared daggers at him.  “Oh, you stole _two_ sets of these magic cuffs?  You planned this, didn’t you, you sick son of a bitch?  Finally got me in your power, huh?”

            “It’s not like that,” Cass said, refusing to rise to Dean’s obvious bait.  “I own one of each set.  I used the salamander cuffs on you to contain your powers for my own safety, since you already burned me once.  But I’m a detective.  I have my own regular cuffs, as well as other restraints.  Don’t think I won’t use them.  Stop fighting, and don’t try to hurt me or trick me.  Or I’ll chain you completely down.”

            Dean blinked in surprise.  “You don’t have it in you!” he challenged.

            Cass’s eyes were a frosty blue.  “Try me.”

            Dean frowned.  His eyes flickered around as he thought things through.  Then he nodded.  “Ok, I get it.”  To Cass’s surprise, Dean stopped struggling with the runed cuffs.  He pulled the pillow up behind his back with his free hand so he could sit up, leaning against the headboard.  Then he turned to Cass.  “So, you saved me, huh?  Went against your fellow cops and everything?  I thought elementals stick together!  How could you go against your fellow undines?”

            “Elementals do stick together, to a degree, but not as much as the salamanders.  And like I already told you, I’m not an undine.  But yes.  I went against my fellow officers and my boss to help you.”

            “Thank you.”  Dean’s smile was dazzling, and Cass forgot to breathe for a moment.  “I really thought I was going to die,” Dean went on.  “I remember them dragging me down under the water, and that stupid ring at the bottom of the pool, but nothing really after that.  No, wait!”  He frowned again.  “I remember, just before I passed out, seeing a shadow.  Was that you?”

            “Probably.  By the time I got there, they’d already dragged you in.  I had to act fast, but I had to be careful,” Cass explained.  “If they’d have seen me, you’d still be dead and I wouldn’t be much better off.  The Council of Elders ordered Final Justice for you, and the elementals exact a pretty heavy toll from anyone who defies the Council.”

            Dean cocked an eyebrow at that.  “Really?  Those undines would have turned on you, even though you’re one of them?”

            Cass rolled his eyes.  “For the last time, I’m not an undine!  If I was, you wouldn’t have been able to hurt me the way you did.”  Cass indicated his burned skin.  “Not every cop in Elemental Falls is an undine, just most of them.”

            “It’s not that big of a town,” Dean pointed out.  “How many cops do you even have?”

            “They were pretty much all at the falls with you,” Cass confessed.  “The two older gentlemen were retired, and the father of two cops on the force.  I’m sure you saw the three in uniform at the falls.  One of the women and one of the men in plain clothes work the night shift.  Besides them, myself, and Blake, there’s two other guys who work the evening shift.  Total of ten, counting Carson.”

            “So in a police force of ten cops, including the chief, how many are _not_ undines?”

            “Well, including the janitorial staff and the lady who works dispatch…”

            “Cass!  How many cops aren’t undines?”

            “One,” Cass confessed, lowering his head.  “Me.”

            Dean shook his head.  “So we were right.  It basically is an all-undine police force!  We figured it was why you just happened to have the runed cuffs on hand to use against us!”

            “We have runed cuffs for all the elemental types, not just salamanders.  And it’s not an undine conspiracy.  It’s their personality types,” Cass explained.  “Undines like to keep the status quo.  They’ll enforce the law, do what’s necessary as you yourself can attest.  But they stay cooler than most under pressure.  They do tend to be moody, and stubborn, but once they select a course of action, they tend to see it through to the end.  That’s something else you’ve discovered.”

            “I also discovered that they get off on torturing salamanders,” Dean grumbled.  “I actually thought they’d end up drowning me back at the station in that damned shower room!”

            “The shower room?”  Cass frowned.  “I wasn’t aware of anything happening at the station.  When you said they’d tortured you, I assumed they beat you up on the way to the falls.  In retrospect, you did say they used their powers on you.  What did they do?  What happened in the shower room?”

            “They covered the floor with ice and then took turns using their water powers on me!  Damned near drowned me right there.  That’s also where all my bruises came from.”

            The frown deepened.  “I don’t understand.  I cannot imagine Carson approving that!”

            “He didn’t.  He’s the one who put a stop to it.  I was glad right up until he took me out to the falls.”  Dean paused.  “The way they listen to him, it’s more than just him being chief, isn’t it?  It’s this elder thing.  This is more of that Rules business?  That all elementals listen to their elders?”

            “That’s right.  The elders are venerated, and untouchable.  To strike an elder is to immediately face Final Justice.”

            “Holy shit, no wonder dad was so insistent that we couldn’t ever, ever attack the lead salamander.  If Adam had hit him, would he have been dragged to the falls?”

            “Immediately, and probably by the rest of the salamanders,” Cass confirmed.  “That’s the ultimate crime against your own kind.”

            “The other salamanders know their place!”  Dean groaned.  “This is such bullshit!  Why didn’t anyone ever tell us these damned rules?”

            “I don’t have an answer to that,” Cass said.  “I’ll be certain to teach you, though, while you’re with me.”

            “Ok, start with the elders.  Because Daly and Crowley aren’t really old, so how can they be elders?”

            “While Sylph is an elderly woman, the other three aren’t actually old,” Cass confirmed.  “They’re just the most powerful, experienced elementals in the town.  Each elder nominates his or her replacement.  If one should die or become incapacitated without a successor, the other elementals vote on their own new elder.  And of course, before an elder becomes Lead Elder, they’re required to name their successor.”

            “And these guys run the show?”

            “They’re the leaders of the elementals, and their word is law.  They’re the only ones who can declare Final Justice.”  He paused.  “You should know that, Dean.  Because it means that your death yesterday was sanctioned, a direct order from the Council of Elders.  Every elemental in this town is commanded to bring you to justice.  And that means we can’t stay here.”

            The green eyes grew serious.  “So these four fuckers decided it was ok for the undines to take me out to the falls and just drown me?  No trial, no chance for me to defend myself, just drag me underwater and drown me!  And the whole damned town will not only let it happen, but they’ll make sure it happens?”

            “Essentially, yes.”

            Dean clenched his fists.  “And Fergus Crowley is the elder salamander!  Fucking _Crowley_ voted to drown me!  That son of a bitch!”

            “Well, maybe he did, and maybe he didn’t,” Cass corrected.  “We have no way to know how that vote went.  It could have been unanimous, three to one, or even a tie that was decided by Sylph as Lead Eder after hearing debate.”

            Dean was still for a moment, obviously digesting this bit of information.  “Whatever.  Thank you for saving me.  Now, will you please let me go?  Since I obviously can’t stay in town, I should probably find Adam and get out of it, fast.”

            “We’ll be leaving as soon as you’re strong enough,” Cass declared, rising.  “They’ll be watching all the roads out of town, so I’m afraid I’ll have to hide you in the trunk.  In another hour or so, the sun will be coming up.  When that happens, everyone’s going to know you’re not at the bottom of that pool.  Eventually, they’ll suspect me.  We need to get out of town before that happens.  Are you feeling strong enough to walk?  I carried you last night and my back is still sore, but you spiked such a high fever…”

            “Whoa, wait!” Dean called.  “First off, did you sit there and watch me all night?”

            “Yes.”

            “Creepy!  Second, what’s with all this ‘we’ business?  There isn’t any ‘we’ here, Cass.  Let me go, and I’m out of here.  I’ll meet up with Adam and we’ll take off and you’ll never have to worry about either one of us again!”

            “Dean, I’m coming with you,” Cass said patiently.

            “Like hell you are!”  Dean jerked on the cuff.  “Let me go!  The sooner I get the hell out of this town, the better!”

            “I don’t think you understand,” Cass sighed.  “You’re not going anywhere without me.”

            The green eyes locked with his for a long moment.  Then they moved to the cuff on his wrist, lingering on the runes that blocked his powers before returning to Cass.  “Think we got time for something to eat before we go?” he asked.

            “Because you need me to…”  Cass paused, blinking.  “Wait, what?”

            “Something to eat,” Dean repeated.  “Food?  If we’re going to be moving out of town and you’re really planning on locking me in your trunk to do it?  I’m not doing it on an empty stomach.”

            Cass blinked.  “You’re saying you agree?”

            “Do I have a choice?”  He tugged on the cuffs again.  “I am seriously unhappy with these cuffs, Cass, but I haven’t exactly done anything to make you trust me.  In this town, I get why a normal person would be scared of an elemental, especially a salamander who’s already burned him.”  Dean’s expression grew solemn as his eyes flicked over Cass’s face and neck, noting the peeling skin.  “I hurt you pretty badly, huh?”

            “It’s not that bad,” Cass protested weakly.

            “Yeah it was,” Dean insisted.  “You’ve got no reason to trust me, and every reason not to.  I get it, and I’ll cooperate.  If I gotta earn your trust, then so be it.  But you saved my life.  I’m a fugitive, and the cops want to kill me.  You know their tactics, so my best chance to stay alive is to stick with you.  But first, I gotta eat.  I’m starving!  If you’re not going to let me go, then will you please bring me something to eat?  And please tell me you’re not a damned health nut like Adam is because I am a red meat eater!”

            “You…  I…  Yes, of course I’ll get you something to eat.  But it’s going to be a Hot Pocket.  We’ve got to get moving, Dean.”

            “Alright,” Dean agreed.  “Before you go, though, could you let me go so I can use the bathroom?  Please!  I promise I won’t run or try to hurt you, but I gotta piss something fierce.”  Seeing the doubt on Cass’s face, Dean sighed.  “Look, I’ll let you lock me back up afterwards if you insist, but I really gotta piss!  Please let me go?  I promise I’ll behave!”

            “I’ll help you to the bathroom.  But you’re going in handcuffed, and I’m not leaving you alone.  Then I’ll take you downstairs with me, we’ll eat, and then we’ll head out.”

            The green eyes darkened a little, and Cass expected an argument.  But then Dean smiled.  “Thanks.  Oh, don’t look so shocked!  You changed my clothes and cleaned me up, so you already saw everything I have to offer.  And frankly, I feel so weak and shaky now that I might need your help.”

            Cass’s head was spinning.  He’d expected Dean to argue, to demand to be released and rail against him.  This sudden acceptance was a pleasant surprise.  Cass reminded himself firmly that Dean wasn’t trustworthy.  No matter how compliant he might seem now, the memory of the way the beautiful salamander had tricked him back when he’d first arrested him still stung.  Still, it wasn’t like he could keep Dean cuffed to the bed forever.  He nodded.  “Alright.  I’ll help you to the bathroom.  I’ll even cuff your hands in front of you.  But if you try anything at all…?”

            “I’ll behave!  Come on, Cass, what do you think I’m going to do?  You’ve locked my powers away, I’m weak as a newborn kitten, and we both know you could kick my ass even if I was at my best!”  Dean rattled the cuff on the bedpost.  “Let me go.  Please?”

            Cass pulled the key out of a pocket, undid the cuff on the bedpost and immediately locked it onto Dean’s other wrist.  He did this warily, anticipating some form of attack.  But Dean simply allowed it.  Freed from the bedpost, Dean swung his legs over the side of the bed.  He sat there for a moment, blinking his eyes.  “Dizzy,” he confessed.

            “We’ll go slow.  Get your bearings and lean on me.”  Cass waited until Dean was ready and then helped him to a standing.  Dean leaned heavily on Cass and hissed in pain as Cass accidentally pressed against his bruised ribs.  “Sorry.”

            “It’s ok.  Just don’t hold me so tight.  Let me lean on you.”

            Cass let Dean get his bearings.  Then, to his surprise, Dean reached up, turned Cass’s head with a hand, and kissed him.  “Thank you,” he said quietly.  “For saving my life, and for taking care of me.”

            “I’ll keep taking care of you, if you let me,” Cass said.  His heart was pounding.

            Dean smiled.  “Thanks.  Now can we please get to the bathroom?  Otherwise you’re about to have a mess on your hands!”

            Cass nodded.  Intellectually, he was aware that this was most likely some sort of trick.  But his mind was having a hard time convincing his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun laughed pretty hard at the idea of fitting a six foot one man into the trunk of a Prius. Points out that his initial guess was Cass, but liked how it could have been almost anyone. Thought it was very smart, how Cass saved Dean.
> 
> Multiple people guessed Cass, among others, so give yourselves a **GOLD STAR**!


	36. Dance With The Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam has a chat with Crowley, but Crowley has a surprise waiting for him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, apparently Cass isn't completely tone deaf, even with that gravely voice.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=izh8JSwUqu0  
> While I'm still not convinced he should quit his day job, all the respect to Misha for being able to pull that off, singing in that voice while bouncing a baby around! That scene caused me to rewrite a later scene in this fic, and honestly, I think it worked out better in the end!
> 
> Translation:  
> Si hoc legere scis nimium eruditionis habes - If you can read this, you're overeducated

            Sam thought that calling an office building “Purgatory” was just a bit of a downer for those condemned to work there.  But he supposed that some of those same people probably felt that the name was completely fitting.  He couldn’t imagine being trapped in the day to day drudgery of a nine to five office job.  Sam took a moment to thank God he was an FBI agent.  While that had its own share of drudgery, with this past week being a perfect example, at least he was doing something that made a real difference in people’s lives.  Every day, Sam put on a badge and gun and worked hard to protect people from criminals.  Even on the most boring stake-out, that meant something.  And besides, no stake-out lasted forever.  There was always something new, always another case to solve and another criminal to hunt down and bring to justice.  And that had to be infinitely better than sitting at a desk all day in front of a computer and crunching numbers!

            On second thought, Sam decided he agreed with the building’s owner.  A place like this was about as close to Purgatory on Earth as you could get.

            He wasn’t surprised at all when Crowley kept him waiting.  Sam had no desire to look at the very outdated and mostly geared towards women magazines that were spread over a table in the waiting area.  Instead, he pulled out his laptop and busied himself with checking a few of his facts.  Satisfied, he was busy looking through various family trees in the town and confirming some of his suspicions when the receptionist, an attractive blonde whose assets were most likely surgically enhanced, finally approached.  “Mr. Crowley will see you now, Agent,” she announced.

            “Thank you.”  Sam closed his laptop and rose.

            As usual, he towered over the woman.  But she seemed far from intimidated.  Her heels clicked briskly on the floor as she led the way into a spacious corner office.

            Sam moved to sit in the chair across from the empty desk, expecting Crowley to come in after Sam had been given enough time to be suitably impressed by the expensive furnishings.  But then he heard a click and realized with a start that she’d just closed and locked the door.  A quick glance around confirmed a complete lack of any other door leading in or out of the office.  Sam immediately stood up and faced her.  His mind raced.  He knew he was an attractive man.  He was tall, with a powerful, well-built body, and of course he was highly intelligent.  It wasn’t unusual for women, and the occasional man, to make a pass at him.  But this was the first time anyone had ever come on to him quite so aggressively.  Unfortunately, Sam had no idea how to deal with it.  “Um, may I ask what you’re doing?” he asked anxiously.  “I mean, I’m very flattered, but I’m married to my job right now.  I’m sorry, ma’am.  You’re a very attractive woman, but I couldn’t in good conscience…”

            “As I said, Mr. Crowley will see you now,” she declared.  She bustled past him, moving to a sampler on the wall.

            Sam blinked.  “Uh…  Um, what?”

            “I’m not looking for a date, Agent,” she said shortly.  “I’m here to take you to Mr. Crowley.”

            Sam processed this, looking again around the room.  “How?  You locked the door!  We going out the window, or…?”

“The way to Mr. Crowley’s real office is here,” she explained curtly, moving the sampler aside.  "The Gates of Hell."

            Sam belatedly realized that the sampler’s Latin text was from Dante.  Then he saw the inscription over the small tunnel and grimaced.  “You know, I’m starting to notice a pattern here.  First Purgatory, then ‘Abandon hope all ye who enter here’ and now the Gates of Hell?”

            She glanced at him, and then sniffed, indicating the sampler.  “Si hoc legere scis nimium eruditionis habes, agent,” she spouted off.  “I’m sure you thought I was just a busty secretary, but I’m far more than that.  And I’m also the only way you’re able to pass through the Gates of Hell.”

            Sam’s mouth had already been hanging open after hearing himself mocked in Latin.  But then she quickly moved next to him, wrapped her arms around his waist, and his world vanished into flames.  He was about two seconds from a full-fledged panic attack when he felt himself moving, lunging forward and plunging down the tiny tunnel that had been hidden behind the sampler.  He was somehow aware of his surroundings, despite the fact that he didn’t seem to have eyes.  He couldn’t feel anything, not the arms around him or his body.  There was no up or down, no sensation of being in any space or time.  Just this rapid movement that was fast and sure and somehow _hungry_ , searching in vain for something to devour.  And worst of all, the feeling seemed somehow familiar.  It felt as if something inside of him recognized and responded to whatever was happening to him.

            And then suddenly, just when Sam was about to start screaming, the flames fell away, and he was back in his body.  The receptionist’s arms were tight around him, steadying him as he gasped and swayed in shock.  “I…  You…  Don’t ever do that to me again!”

            “If I let you go, are you going to fall over?”

            “No!  …Maybe?”  He grabbed for the wall, using it to steady himself.

            She frowned at him.  “Mr. Crowley is waiting, Agent Winchester,” she reminded.

            “A-alright, I’m coming.  Um…”  Sam looked around.  “Is this the only way in or out?  How do I get back out?”

            “Don’t look at me!” she declared.  “After all, you told me to never do that to you again.  So it looks as if you’re on your own for your ticket back up.”

            He looked sharply at her.  “So, you’re saying that, unless someone takes me through that tunnel the way you just did, I can’t get out?”

            She looked at him for a moment, her gaze cool.  “Mr. Crowley’s office is down the end of the hall,” she informed him.  Then she vanished into flames that flashed back up the tunnel.

            Sam resisted the urge to yell for her to come back.  He paused for a moment, forcing his breathing back to normal.  _It’s alright,_ he thought to himself.  _They can’t keep you here.  You’re an FBI agent!  Of course, you’re officially on vacation right now so no one in Portland actually knows you’re here, but these yokels don’t know that.  They can’t keep you here!  Calm down, Sam, play it cool, and do your damned job!_

            Cool regained, Sam walked down the hall.  On either side stood some rough-looking men.  They eyed the agent like a piece of meat as he passed.  There were a couple of catcalls, and someone called, “Pretty hair!”

            “Thanks,” Sam replied.  He kept his expression neutral and his steps confident, but his heart was pounding in his chest.  More than ever, he was all too aware of the danger he was in.  Reaching the door, he straightened to his full height and knocked.

            “Come in, Moose!” Crowley called cheerfully from behind the door.  “I’ve been expecting you!”

            Sam went in, closing the door behind him.

            Crowley’s real office was decorated in some sort of modern theme.  Or maybe it was just fireproof?  Sam had taken note of the fireproof plates that covered the walls, floors, and ceiling.  He supposed that in a secret underground lair of fire elementals, having furniture made primarily of metal would be an advantage.

            Crowley himself was seated behind a desk.  He indicated the pair of chairs in front of it.  “Please, have a seat!”

            “No, thank you,” Sam told him.  “We need to talk, Mr. Crowley.  But not here.”

            Crowley frowned.  “What?  You don’t like my office?”

            “That depends.  Is there another way out of it?”

            “Aaah!”  Crowley smiled in understanding and folded his hands over his chest.  “You’re worried that you’re trapped down here.”

            “The thought did cross my mind, yes.  Had I known what your receptionist was planning to do, I never would have let her bring me down here!  We need to talk, Crowley.  But I won’t do it from a place where I’m trapped and at your mercy!”

            “How melodramatic!” Crowley exclaimed.  “However, if you are, as you say, trapped and at my mercy, then why would I give up that advantage?  What, exactly, is it that you’re so eager to speak with me about?”

            “Dammit, Crowley!” Sam snapped, starting to lose his hard-won cool.  “I know, alright?  I know the fix you’re in!”

            “Oh really?”  Crowley cocked an eyebrow, and his smirk grew.  “I wonder what, exactly, it is that you think you know?”

            “I know about Lucifer!”

            Instantly, Crowley’s smile vanished.  His brow darkened and he rose.  “Start talking.”

            “Like I said, we’ll talk as soon as you let me out of here.  We can find a safe place, neutral territory out of town, and I can help you!  I’m the only one who can, Crowley.  And you need my help!  You know you do.  In fact, I suspect that you arranged events specifically to get me to help you!”

            “Sit down.”

            “Crowley!”

            _“Sit down!”_ Crowley bellowed.

            For a moment, the two stared each other down, green eyes clashing with brown.  Sam considered his options.  If he backed down now, Crowley would have all the advantage.  But what choice did he have?  The moment he’d been taken down here, he was trapped and at Crowley’s mercy.  The only way out of this would be to convince the lawyer turned crime lord that he needed Sam’s help.

            Unfortunately, that meant giving Crowley what he wanted.  For now, at least, Sam knew he had to play along.  Looking away, Sam pulled out one of the chairs and sat down.

            Crowley’s face broke into a smile that was 80% condescending smirk.  “Thank you, Moose!” he said brightly as he sat back down.  “It’s always a bit intimidating when someone is towering over you.  Rather like dealing with the schoolyard bully!  But now, you see, we are simply two men, ready to negotiate.”

            “Of course.”  Hardly.  But of course Crowley was all too aware of their positions.

            “Now why don’t you start?” Crowley encouraged.  “Tell me what it is you think you know about Lucifer?”

            “Not here.”  Sam leaned back and crossed his hands over his chest.  “You just said we’re negotiating.  You want to know what I know, and I want out of here.  But if I tell you what I know, what do I have left to negotiate with?”

            “If I let you out, what do _I_ have?” Crowley countered.

            “Do you really think you can keep me here?” Sam challenged.  “I’m a federal agent!  If you don’t let me out, it’s kidnapping.  If I don’t report in to the field office…”

            “Oh, Moose, Moose!” Crowley laughed.  “When you first showed up, you announced that you were on vacation and got bored, so you came here to work a case.  Yes, that got back to me, I’ve got eyes and ears everywhere in this town, even the Elemental Falls police station!  It’s amazing, what I know.  For instance, I know that, before you came here, you spent a great deal of time at the courthouse, nosing about.  You went poking through that safe, and then you were seen wandering through the rooms next to where those subversives burned into the safe itself.”

            “You mean the subversives that you sent to burn through that safe and ash the contents?” Sam asked dryly.  “Those subversives?”

            Crowley didn’t miss a beat.  “From what I hear, you found something.  Or at least, you believed you’d found something?  And then, almost immediately, you call my office!  Well, Moose, I called your office, too.  I asked about you, and your little vacation.  Now, can you guess what they told me?”

            Sam tried hard not to let anything show in his face.  “So, I’m on vacation.  But I’m obviously working a case out here,” he pointed out.  “That means I’ve been reporting back.”

            “Ah, but you see, when I told you that I have eyes and ears everywhere?  I was including the Portland field office!  I know that your so-called ‘vacation’ is actually a sabbatical, isn’t it, Moose?  You tangled with the wrong person and did a fine job of bringing down a major crime lord, but it cost you dearly, didn’t it?  You were so strong and brave, even though he’d threatened you!  You never backed down.  You testified, put that bastard away for what he’d done.  And in return, he murdered your girlfriend.”  Crowley shook his head.  “Instead of taking time to mourn, you went back to work.  And you became more and more intolerable until you wore out your sympathy and you were finally called in and ordered to go on sabbatical.”  He tsked.  “You really do have quite the problem with following orders, don’t you, Moose?  You weren’t assigned any cases, so you dug around and found something in your old stomping grounds of Elemental Falls!  Then you caught your men and headed out of town.  You were thorough, weren’t you, Moose?  You even reported yourself out, in case anyone did what I did and called your field office!  And that?”  Crowley’s smirk grew.  “That, my dear boy, means that no one is looking for you.  Because absolutely no one has any idea that you’re still here!”

            Sam stopped breathing for a moment.  “Alright, so you know about me, and you know you’ve got me trapped down here,” he said, his lips numb.  “Doesn’t change things.  You may have trapped me, but I’m not the one under Lucifer’s thumb, am I?  Let me out, and I’ll help you.”  He scoffed.  “I was coming here to help you anyway, you moron!  You didn’t have to do this.”

            “Maybe,” Crowley admitted.  “But see, this way, we’ve shared a mo’, had some quality time for male bonding!  Now we’re closer than ever!”

            “What do you want, Crowley?” Sam snapped.  “What is it going to take for you to let me out of this hole?”

            “Hole?  My dear boy, this is Hell!  It’s my own personal paradise!”

            “The name is apt, but I think you’ve misinterpreted the definition of ‘paradise’ a bit.  Why are you doing this, Crowley?  Tell me what you want!”

            “I want to know what you found,” Crowley said.  He leaned forward.  “Your dear brother burned everything in that safe to ashes.  There wasn’t anything left to find!”

            “My dear brother, as you call him, took something out of that safe before he burned it,” Sam announced.  “He may have been a criminal, but he was at least smart enough to take a look through what it was you wanted him to burn.  And he found something, Crowley.  Proof about Lucifer.  That’s what you sent him to burn, isn’t it?”  He leaned forward as well.  “And that’s why you sent him in there, instead of doing the job yourself.  Because you’re trapped, but Dean?  You knew he’d look at what was in that safe!  Dean was your ace in the hole!  The one salamander under your control with every reason to hate Lucifer and ties to the FBI!”  He leaned back, shaking his head.  “The one thing I can’t figure out is why you’d vote to kill him!”

            “I didn’t!” Crowley snapped, glowering.  “The fucking Undine played loose with the vote.  That bastard hates salamanders anyway.  He had the opportunity to tie up a loose end and he took it.  It’s a miracle he didn’t get Levine as well!”

            “Yes, lucky break for you!  Dean was an ace in the hole, but Levine?”

            _“Leave him out of this!”_

            “Ooo, testy!”  Sam’s eyebrows had shot up at Crowley’s unexpected reaction.  “What, you got a thing for the guy?”

            “I shouldn’t have used Levine,” Crowley grumbled.  “But Winchester doesn’t have nearly the power Levine has.  No other salamander has, that’s the bloody problem, isn’t it?”

            “He’s your successor,” Sam realized.  “This mayor race, it’s for more than the mayor, isn’t it?  That old lady’s retiring, and that means…”

            “That means a new Lead Elder will be chosen by popular vote,” Crowley confirmed.  “In this case, a vote for mayor.  Pygmy’s too new, too inexperienced.  He only became an elder three months ago, so he wasn’t eligible.  That meant it was between me and the Undine.  And if I won the election and was named Lead Elder…?”

            “…Then you had to name a successor,” Sam recalled.  “And for a salamander, that successor is supposed to be the most powerful.  Levine?”

            “That boy has more fire in him than anyone has seen in generations,” Crowley explained.  “More fire than I ever had!”

            “But wouldn’t that make him a threat to you?” Sam asked.  “If he has more power than you do…”

            “He can’t control it!  His fire burns so hot that he can melt metal, but it’s too much for him.  That’s why he needed another salamander.  Someone who could control not only his own power, but Levine’s as well.”

            “Dean,” Sam breathed.

            “With your brother to help him, Levine would have been unstoppable,” Crowley confirmed.  “With him at my side and the Lead Elder’s scepter in my hand, I could have ended this!  I could have gotten out from Lucifer’s thumb, gotten all of my salamanders out of this whole bloody mess!  But then Levine was the only one I could send on that job.  I knew if I sent him, Winchester would follow.  And I counted on it!  I knew Levine would be exhausted after burning through the safe.  But Winchester would see to him.  And I made enough of a fuss about what was in the safe that I was absolutely certain that, once he’d tended to my successor, he would go check the safe.  It was a risk that I had to take.  I couldn’t wait to move on that safe, and I believed that the two of them would be able to pull it off.  But then your idiot brother had to get himself caught and dragged to the falls.  Now I’ve no idea where my successor is, no idea what’s become of your brother, and yes, I’ve suddenly found myself quite in need of outside assistance!  I need those two back, and I need them back alive and well!  So, Agent Winchester?”  Crowley’s voice was a study in strained politeness.  “Please tell me that you can, in fact, offer assistance.  What did you find?”

            Sam didn’t miss the way Crowley had finally said his name rather than calling him “Moose” again.  The lawyer had told him a lot, even incriminated himself in criminal activities.  But that could go either way.  And somehow, Sam didn’t think that the King of Hell was giving up.  He needed to be very careful now.  “Everything in the safe was burned to ash,” he began.  “But even though I don’t know Dean, we’re brothers.  So I tried to put myself in his shoes, see the situation as he must have seen it.  I found the prints of his boots in the ashes, and some shelves had been moved with more prints on them.  So I knew he’d been in the safe, and he had to have looked through those records.  But then he realized that the police were closing in on him.  He had a short period of time before they’d catch him.  If I was Dean, I’d realize that whatever I’d found was too important to let it fall into their hands.  So, if I was Dean, where would I hide the information I’d found?”  He smiled.  “I have to hand it to him.  Dean was good.  He must have wiped off his tracks from the desk.  But he’d been rooting around in ashes, and he left a faint smudge of his thumb on one of the tiles of the drop ceiling.  If I hadn’t been specifically looking, I never would have found it.”

            “Agent?”  The patience was even more strained now.  “What did you find?”

            “Proof,” Sam declared.  “Proof that Lucifer’s behind everything!  Proof enough that, although you’re still going to jail for a while, if you turn state’s evidence, you’ll be able to get a reduced sentence, while the real mastermind goes away for life!”

            “And my successor?”

            “If Levine and Winchester testify, they can get a reduced sentence, maybe even immunity,” Sam offered.

            “They get every charge dropped,” Crowley insisted.  “And they don’t testify.  They don’t go near the stand, and Lucifer never ties them in to anything.  You either!”

            “I’m the lead agent on this!  I’ve got to…”

            “No, you’re not!” Crowley exclaimed.  “You’re not even supposed to be here!  You make the deals, but then you hand everything off to someone else.  Or didn’t you learn last time?  If you face down someone like Lucifer in court, then people near you get hurt.  And I won’t take the chance Lucifer retaliates on your brother or Levine to get back at you.”  He raised a finger.  “Of course, this is all dependent on the FBI taking Lucifer into custody.  And that depends entirely on what you’ve found.  Where is this evidence?”

            “Somewhere safe,” Sam declared.  “Let me out of here, and we’ll discuss it further.  Although, I have to say I’m surprised.  I didn’t expect you to care so much about what happened to Winchester and Levine!”

            “We’re salamanders.  Salamanders stick together.  Oh, they’ll tell you differently.  God knows I’ve driven those two, made them work for everything they’ve ever gotten and beaten the hell out of them more than once to teach them their place.  But it was always for the good of the salamanders, you see.  By driving them as I did, it forced them to learn how to work together.  Levine’s going to need that.  I won’t have all my plans fucked up by an idiot rookie FBI agent!  And of course, that means that this is all going to have to wait until after the election next week.”

            Sam blinked.  “Come again?”

            “You said that your proof was somewhere safe,” Crowley reminded.  “I’ll hold you to that.  And once Winchester and Levine are safely back in the fold, I win this election and Sylph names me Lead Elder, I’ll testify against Lucifer and help you put him away.  I expect to receive the full protection of the FBI, of course.  Your name, if it’s mentioned at all, is a footnote.  And Levine’s name is never mentioned at all!”

            Sam frowned.  “And what, exactly, do you expect is going to happen during this week leading up to the election?”

            “I expect that you’ll enjoy the hospitality of Hell, of course,” Crowley replied.  His smug smile had returned.  “You’re a very good agent, Moose.  Proud of you!  And don’t worry, you’ll be treated very well during your stay here.”

            “You can’t do this,” Sam said, eyeing him.  “You can’t keep me here.  This is kidnapping!”

            “Oh, relax, Moose!  You’ll be fine, and in a week, I’ll let you out, good as new.  After all, you’ve got salamander blood in your veins!  But you must understand, lad.”  Crowley rose and walked around until he could put a hand on the anxious agent’s shoulder.  “You said your brother was my ace in the hole, and that was true.  But now, you are!  So make yourself at home.  You’re not going anywhere.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun really wanted Sam to punch Crowley in the face. “Right smack in his fucking smug-ass face and bust his fucking nose!” Thought it was funny that Sam thought to look in the ceiling panel. Said he figured out most of what was revealed already but it was nice to have confirmation.


	37. Apologize Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake and Adam look for signs of Dean and Cass, and find something more

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non-diegetic music here, and main theme for Adam, is "Stay" by Gavin Mikhail  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4WvExoHB2hM

            As soon as Adam was out of the tarp, he was scrambling out of the truck, pushing past Blake, and pounding on the door of the house, yelling for Dean.  Blake grabbed him and clapped a hand over his mouth.  “Adam!” he warned.  “Be smart, ok?  It’s not likely that anyone is going to hear us here, but the whole town is looking for you.  No yelling, and no rushing ahead!”

            Adam twisted his head, wanting to talk, and Blake finally let him go.  “Let me in, Blake!  I have to see Dean!”

            “Alright, but I really don’t think they’re here.  Cass’s car is missing.”

            Blake and Cass had keys to each others’ houses.  Both were so used to the other that neither had any hesitation about making himself at home.  As a result, Blake strolled into Cass’s house without a thought.  Adam stayed obediently at his side, so Blake moved quickly, heading upstairs to the bedroom.  Just as he suspected, the house appeared to be empty.  “Head to the bathroom,” Blake directed.  “I’ll check the guest bedroom.”

            Blake moved into the guest bedroom.  His sharp eyes took in the rumpled bedding and the telltale marks in the varnish of the upper right bedpost.  Blake moved closer to inspect them.  The marks weren’t cuts.  The wood of the bedpost had been sunken in, as if something hard and narrow had pressed against it.  Blake pressed his hand against the indentation of the pillow.  Damp.  He sniffed carefully and wrinkled his nose at the lingering smell of bile.  Then his eyes fell on an old-fashioned basin resting on the dresser.

            “Blake!”

            Adam.  Blake quickly started for the door, and Adam ran right into his chest.  The smaller man was clutching a familiar leather jacket.  This he shoved at Blake.  “It’s Dean’s!” he exclaimed.  “I found it hanging on the back of the door.  He’s alive, Blake.  Dean’s alive!”

            “Yeah, I think so, too.”  Blake hugged Adam with one arm, using the other to gesture at the bedroom.  “The bed was recently slept in.  The pillow’s damp, which means someone with wet hair was lying on it not that long ago.  But if it was your friend, he’s pretty sick, Adam.  I think Cass was taking care of him.”  He hesitated, and then indicated the handcuffs on Adam’s wrist.  “I also think Cass restrained him.  And judging from the marks on that post, Dean wasn’t happy about it.  He fought.”

            “Why?”  Adam’s eyes were fixed on the bed.  “If Cass saved him, why was Dean fighting?”

            “I think he’s sick, buddy,” Blake sighed.  “They tried to drown him, and we have no idea how long he was under the water or how bad he was when Cass pulled him out of it.  Chances are, he’s in pretty serious condition.  And if he is, then I need to get to him so I can get him healed.”

            “Yeah.”  Adam’s eyes moved to the coat in his arms.  He dug in the pocket, and his face fell as he produced a set of keys.  “Baby’s keys.  Dean would never leave these behind, Blake.  Something’s wrong with him.  Where would Cass take him?”

            “That’s what we need to find out,” Blake declared.  He squeezed Adam’s shoulder.  “I’ll try calling him again.  Why don’t you head to the kitchen, see if you can find something to eat?”

            Adam hesitated.  “You probably don’t want to eat what I can cook.  Dean always did the cooking for us.  Mostly, I can make toast, and eggs if they’re scrambled.”

            “Then stick to eggs and toast,” Blake suggested with a smile.

            Adam smiled back.  “He’s alive, Blake.  Dean’s alive, and we’ll find him!  Thank you.  For helping me.”

            Blake couldn’t resist pulling him close and kissing him.  Adam immediately went compliant and yielded in his arms, allowing and returning the kiss.  The hazel eyes shone as he smiled up at Blake.  Then he shyly ducked his head.  “I’ll make us some toast and eggs.”

            “You do that.”  Blake looked fondly after him as Adam scurried off, still clutching his friend’s jacket to his chest.  Then he called Cass.

            A moment later, a phone rang from somewhere close by.  Blake followed the sound to the master bedroom, where a bit of rooting produced Cass’s mobile.  It had been inside one of the dresser drawers.  The drawers themselves were all but empty.  Not good.  That meant Cass had packed a bag, which meant he intended to be away for some time.

            “Blake?”

            “Coming!”  Blake hurried downstairs and met Adam in the kitchen.  The smaller man was frowning as he looked in the fridge.  “Looks like your partner needs to go grocery shopping,” he said.  “There’s hardly anything in here, and the cupboards aren’t much better.”

            “Yeah, he packed for a long trip,” Blake mused.  “I think he’s planning to go on the run with your friend.  And he left this.”  Blake held up Cass’s phone.  “Would Dean have his?”

            “No, it’s here in his coat.”  Adam showed the phone to Blake.  “And it’s still got water in it.”  The hazel eyes grew troubled as Adam again considered what his friend had gone through.  “Blake, if Dean’s sick, how can Cass go on the run with him?”

            “He can’t,” Blake sighed.  “He’s got to get some help.”

            “Do you know where he’d go?”

            “Yeah, I think I might.  Cass is a good cop, and he earned his spot on the force.  But the fact is that his family’s got connections.  If Dean’s as sick as I think he is, then Cass might just have to draw on some of those connections.”

            The beautiful eyes brightened.  “Then he could get Dean help without risking him going back to the falls?”

            “Yeah,” Blake agreed.  “I believe he could.”

            Adam tossed Dean’s coat onto the table.  And then Blake had an armful of Adam, the relieved salamander all but climbing the undine in his eagerness to reach Blake’s lips.  Blake opened his mouth to say something, he had no idea what.  And then Adam’s tongue was in his mouth, and Blake no longer cared about whatever it was he’d been about to say.  All he cared about was finding somewhere soft and flat to lay Adam down and this time, nothing was going to interrupt them.

            He made it to the couch by sheer force of will.  Adam’s legs were wrapped around Blake’s waist and the smaller man had already made short work of the buttons on his shirt.  Now he clung to Blake’s neck with one arm while his free hand explored and caressed Blake’s chest.  Meanwhile, Adam’s mouth was still pressed to Blake’s, breathing into Blake in quick little gasps.  By the time Blake pressed him down on the couch, he was already rock hard.

            Adam struggled to get back up, his hands quickly undoing Blake’s belt and opening his jeans.  Discovering what waited, Adam leaned forward, his eyes looking up at Blake as he licked at Blake’s slit before using his tongue to draw Blake’s length into his mouth.  The sensation was mind-blowing, and the picture Adam made as he gazed up at Blake was so erotic that Blake moaned aloud.  “Dammit, Adam, what the hell do you do to me?”

            Adam’s only answer was to slide Blake’s jeans further down his hips.  His hands slipped around Blake’s thighs to squeeze his buttocks.

            Blake let it go on, reveling in the sensation until he felt himself nearing the edge.  Then he grasped Adam’s shoulders and pulled him off.  Adam gave a small whine of protest, but allowed himself to be pressed down onto the couch once again.  He lay still, gazing up at Blake while Blake pulled off his clothing, then obediently raised his arms for Blake to take off his t-shirt.  Blake paused, taking in the sight of Adam topless before him.  He reached down in wonder, letting his hands explore Adam’s tightly muscled torso, trace the tattoos there.  Adam shivered, his skin breaking out in gooseflesh.  “Please, Blake!  Please!”

            “Shhh!”  One of Blake’s hands clutched at Adam’s jeans.  The other slid up Adam’s throat and gently gripped at his jaw.  His thumb brushed over Adam’s lips and Adam eagerly opened his mouth, drawing in and sucking on Blake’s thumb just as he’d done with his cock earlier.  Blake sucked in his breath.  “You’re beautiful, you’re so fucking beautiful!  How the hell is this, that I can have you?”

            Adam paused for a moment, reaching up to pull Blake’s hand off of his jaw and bring it down to join the other at his jeans.  “Take me,” he offered.  “If you want me, Blake, then take me!”

            Blake took in another deep breath, his blue eyes blown wide.  He glanced upwards, and then down at the perfect creature before him.  Then he scooped Adam up in his arms and quickly carried him upstairs.

            He and Cass had always made themselves at home in each other’s houses.  Granted, this may be a bit much, even for them.  But he refused to take this beautiful man on a living room couch.  Adam deserved a bed, and Cass’s spacious king sized four poster was the only one that would do.  He’d apologize to Cass later.  For now, he was digging through the bedside dresser, praying that Cass had what he was looking for.  And his prayers were answered when his eyes landed on a tube of K-Y and a package of condoms in the top drawer.

            Blake had never been with a man before, but he and Cass had had many extremely frank and open conversations over beer.  He knew what needed done.  Adam was already lifting his hips, encouraging him as he pulled down his skinny jeans.  They landed on the floor with his motorcycle boots and Blake quickly lubed up his fingers.  Adam was as hot and tight as any woman.  When he cried out as Blake opened him, Blake worried for a moment that he’d hurt him.  But then he realized the truth.  He grinned and stroked the spot he’d discovered, listening as Adam cried out again and squirmed on the bed.  Adam’s cock was so hard that when Blake took it in hand, Adam jerked.  Already, the tip was glistening with precum.  A couple of jerks combined with a couple of strokes at that magic spot and Adam was coming undone.  He thrashed on the bed, chanting Blake’s name and clutching at the sheets.  “Dammit, Shelton!” he gasped.  “Fuck me!  Please!”

            Blake was more than happy to comply with that.  He slipped on a condom and finally, _finally_ was able to slide into Adam’s tight heat.  He took his time, careful not to hurt his beautiful lover, and groaned as he bottomed out.  Adam gasped, his head thrown back.  His legs went around Blake’s waist, pulling him forward as Blake drew back.  A moment later, they had a rhythm going.  Blake leaned forward, one arm holding Adam tight against him while the other gripped the back of Adam’s neck, holding his head still so Blake could plant kisses all over his face and neck.  Adam clung to Blake’s arms, angling his hips for greater penetration.  Blake was about to reach down and tend to his lover when Adam cried out and Blake felt something warm splash against his belly.  He smiled.  “You came from my cock!”

            Adam, wrecked, could only nod.  And that was enough to send Blake over the edge, spilling into the condom inside of Adam.

            Spent, Blake stayed where he was for a moment longer.  His weight pressed Adam down in the soft mattress, but Adam didn’t object.  His eyes were soft as he looked up at Blake.  “Stay with me,” he whispered.  “I know you’ve got to go through your divorce, and your job, and a million other reasons you shouldn’t be with me.  But at least for a little while, would you stay with me, Blake?”

            “I would stay with you for the rest of my life,” Blake told him.  He pulled out, rolled off, and drew Adam close.  “I don’t care about anything else.  I just want to be with you.  If that costs me my job or fucks up my divorce?  Frankly, I don’t give a shit.”

            “You do some great pillow talk, Shelton,” Adam chuckled.

            Adam’s voice sounded sleepy.  Blake looked down to see that his eyes were closed.  He’d snuggled against Blake’s chest, heedless of the mess between them.  Blake reached back, found some tissues, and pushed him back enough to clean them both up a bit.  Then he held Adam close once more.  As Adam again snuggled into his chest, tucking his head under Blake’s chin, Blake tightened his grip.  “I would do anything for you,” he vowed.  “I’ll protect you, I swear it.”

            “I know,” came the sleepy reply.  “I’d do the same for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun groaned as usual at the mush. 
> 
> You're welcome.


	38. To Grandmother's House We Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cass takes Dean to his grandmother's place, hoping she can use her political connections to help them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the lapses in posting! Work had been a real bugger lately, I've been putting in overtime left and right that I won't get paid for (must love salary, really!), and I've been coming home too exhausted to focus. Unfortunately, next week may not be much better. No promises! Meanwhile, enjoy this latest chapter.
> 
> Got some more lovely artwork! Posted via link in the story in the "Under Protection" chapter. Enjoy!

            To say Dean had been unhappy to find out he was about to be locked into the trunk of a Prius would be an understatement.  Cass had never heard so much slander about his mother.  But in the end, it had made little difference.  The risk that Cass might be stopped and questioned by one of his fellow officers was just too high, especially now that the sun had come up.  The elders would have gone to the falls by now to collect Dean’s body and verify that Final Justice had been carried out.  Once they discovered him missing, well,Cass had no doubt that suspicion would fall on him quickly.

            And of course, it helped immensely that Dean was too sick and weak to fight much.

            Unfortunately, they were only halfway there before Cass heard pounding.  “Cass!” Dean called from the trunk.  “Let me out!”

            “It’s not much farther, Dean,” Cass soothed.  “Just hang on for a few more miles.”

            “I can’t!  Please let me out!  I can’t breathe!”

            Cass frowned in concern.  Dean’s fever, he knew, was rising again.  He’d been once again coughing up the pink froth, and he was very weak.  Cass had been forced to all but carry him into the garage.  Dean barely had the strength to resist being pushed into the trunk, and the chain of insults he’d delivered had been punctuated with harsh coughing.  Now, the voice coming from his trunk sounded alarmingly weak.  Muttering a curse, Cass pulled over.  Getting out, he did a quick glance up and down the road.  No one coming.  He said a prayer it would stay that way and opened the trunk.

            Dean looked almost as bad as he’d looked last night.  His skin was alabaster and covered with sweat, even though he appeared to be shivering in cold.  But most alarming, the white cloth handkerchief he’d given Dean to cough into was spotted with blood.  Feverish, bleary green eyes looked up at him from where they seemed sunken into his face.  “Let me out, Cass.  Please!  I can’t stay in here anymore.”

            “Alright,” Cass soothed.  He reached into the trunk and carefully helped Dean out.

            Dean nearly fell on his face before Cass managed to steady him.  More coughs shook his body.  Dean grimaced, turned his head, and spat.  He dabbed at his mouth.  Then he frowned at his cuffed hands and looked up at Cass.  “Just let me go,” he pleaded.  “Or at least let me call Adam!  He probably thinks I’m dead!”

            “Believe me, that’s better,” Cass said, guiding Dean into the back seat of his car.  He hurried around to the other side and began pulling out the supplies he’d stacked in the back seat, taking them back to load them into the trunk.

            “Why?” Dean challenged.  He was sitting on the edge of the back seat, his legs out the door, taking deep breaths of the fresh air and coughing weakly.  “Why won’t you let me contact him?  Is it because you know he’ll come for me and get me away from you?”

            “Because the Council of Elders condemned you to Final Justice,” Cass explained.  “And any elemental who interferes with that faces Final Justice as well.  If Adam had tried to rescue you back at the falls, he would have joined you in that pool.  And if he helps you now, it’s the same story!  Why do you think I haven’t called Blake?  We don’t dare get anyone else involved in this, Dean, we’re on our own!”

            “Oh.”  Ok, that was serious.  Dean coughed again, quietly watching as Cass finished moving supplies around.  “Well, if you can’t involve anyone else, then where are you taking me?”

            “We’re going to go see my grandmother,” Cass replied.

            “Uh, is this really the time to go visit granny?  And I thought you just said anyone else we involved would be in danger!  Can your granny really help us?”

            “Yes,” Cass informed him.  “My grandmother has political connections.  If I ask her, she’ll pull strings to try to get through to the Council of Elders.  We need to try to argue your case, see if we can get them to take another vote based on extraordinary circumstances.  You didn’t know The Rules that you broke, and you didn’t deserve Final Justice.  If we can plead your case, we could get them to reverse the ruling.”

            “And Granny’s got enough juice to make that happen?”

            “Maybe.”  Cass gently pushed Dean back into the car and down onto the seat.  Then he began to buckle him into the seatbelts, fastening them over Dean’s legs and torso.  “All we can do is ask.  If nothing else, she can get you some medicine.  You’re very sick, Dean.”

            Dean frowned, squirming to keep the seatbelts loose.  “What happens if she can’t help me?”

            “Then we go into hiding.”  Cass’s eyes were very blue as he looked at Dean.  He frowned and shook his head.  “Dean?  Give me the keys.”

            “What keys?”

            “The keys to the handcuffs that you just took out of my pocket when I leaned over you.  The ones you’re holding in your hand.”  He quickly snatched Dean’s cuffed hands, pried them open, and retrieved the keys to the handcuffs.

            “Too damned sick,” Dean groaned.  “Making me slow.”

            “Not really.  I just intentionally left the keys in my pocket, sticking slightly out so you could see them, to find out if I could trust you.  Clearly, I cannot!”  He pulled a second set of cuffs out of his coat and pulled Dean’s cuffed hands down, ready to fasten him to the bar at the base of the passenger seat.

            “Don’t!” Dean pleaded, struggling to pull away.  “I’m sorry I took the keys, but can you blame me, Cass?  Yeah, I’m a criminal, and I burned you, and I get that you’re afraid, ok?  You don’t know if you can trust me, but why the hell should I trust you?  Yes, despite everything, you saved my life.  I’m grateful for that.  But frankly, buddy, I question your motives!  I woke up to you holding my hand, dude.  We both know your interest in me is way more than professional!  And this whole time you’ve kept me with you, you never let me loose once, not once!  What the hell am I supposed to think, huh?”

            Cass looked at him skeptically.  “So you’re saying that _I_ need to earn _your_ trust?”

            “Dammit, what the hell do you want from me?” Dean exclaimed, exasperated.  “You don’t need me to trust you, because you hold all the cards!  I can’t fucking fight you, Cass, and I’m too damned sick to run off.  If you leave one cuff on me, then you don’t have to worry about my salamander powers.  But let me go!”  He held up his hands and looked imploringly at Cass.  “Please, I’m sick of this!”

            Cass considered this for a moment.  Then he nodded.  “Alright,” he said.  He replaced the second set of cuffs in his pocket, pulled out the key, and freed one of Dean’s cuffs.  “Hear me now, Dean,” he warned.  “If you try anything, I’m locking you back up again!”

            “Honestly, right now, the only thing I want to do is just lie down and rest,” Dean grumbled.  “On to Granny’s!”

            Cass carefully covered him with a blanket and closed the door.  Looking into the back seat, it seemed obvious that the blanket was covering a human form.  Well, nothing for it.  Dean was just too sick to cram him back into the trunk.  He climbed back behind the wheel, started the car again, and pulled back into the road.

            Hidden under the blanket, Dean fingered the cuff that was still locked around his right wrist.  That was a problem.  But Novak probably thought they functioned like kryptonite to Superman, rendering Dean helpless.  They blocked his powers, but Dean certainly didn’t need his powers to get away.  Now that he’d managed to convince Novak to stop locking both of his hands together or cuffing him to objects, Dean could plot his escape.  One thing he could have used his powers for was the boost they gave him to his healing.  Maybe that was an angle he could play later to get the lovesick cop to take them off?

            Dean was confused about his savior/captor.  The fact that the detective was obviously smitten with him was both an advantage and a disadvantage.  It was an advantage because Dean could perhaps use those emotions as leverage to try to help get himself out of this mess.  But at the same time, he still wasn’t quite sure exactly what Novak wanted.  If it was the obvious, that wasn’t really a problem.  Dean wasn’t above letting the guy have his way with him once or maybe even twice.  Novak was damned good-looking, Dean owed him one for saving his life, and it would hardly be the first time he’d slept with someone to get something he needed.  But so far, all Novak had tried to do with him was hold his hand.  It had been Dean who had initiated the only kiss they’d shared.  Dean still hadn’t been able to provide himself with a reason as to why he’d done that.  Cass had obviously enjoyed it.  But then the detective had helped him in the bathroom, politely looking away while Dean tended to business, only holding his shoulders to help steady him.  He hadn’t peeked or tried to cop a feel or even tried to kiss Dean again.  Instead, other than keeping him restrained and pushing him into that tiny, suffocating trunk, Cass had been respectful of Dean and his privacy.  Dean did not understand Cass Novak.

            Cass was talking as he drove, explaining about The Rules.  Apparently, they were some sort of guidelines that elementals were supposed to follow.  Dean only half-listened, dozing off and on as they drove.  Still, he thought he got the gist of it.  In a nutshell, don’t let anyone catch you using your powers, don’t hurt anyone with your powers, and listen to the elders like a good boy.  Those seemed to be the three biggest points, and of course he’d already broken all three.  No wonder they’d decided to drown him.  Dicks.

            “Dean?  Wake up.  We’re here.”

            “Hmm?”  Dean sat up, and his chest ached.  Then he coughed, which made it worse.  Fortunately, Cass was there.  The detective was surprisingly gentle as he helped Dean out of the car and to his feet.  But Dean was shaking with chills.  His chest was still aching.  It felt as if something was gurgling, deep inside his lungs.  That was probably not good.

            Then he looked up and was nearly dazzled.

            The house, porch, and lawn were covered with a dizzying array of wind chimes and spinners of all kinds.  Dean could see crystals, metal tubes, and colorful fabric.  With every passing breeze, discordant music rang out, along with flashes of light and color.  Apparently, Granny was a collector.  But once Dean’s eyes got past the chaos, he quickly realized that the house was definitely high-end.  Cass had parked in a U-shaped driveway.  A covered walkway followed the perimeter of the driveway, keeping visitors dry on their way to the house.  The house was two stories, with artfully clipped hedges and what could only be servant’s quarters to one side.  Take away all the wind catchers, and the place could be on the front page of “Better Homes And Gardens.”  Apparently, Granny Novak had some money to burn.

            “I’ll get you inside and comfortable, and of course tell Grandma we’re here,” Cass was saying.  “Then I’ll get the car in the garage.  Please mind your manners with my Grandmother?”

            “Yeah, no problem.  I always did like old ladies.  And thank you, for letting me rest.  I don’t know how much longer I can stand.”  Dean made a show of leaning on Cass, trying to appear weaker than he was.  The detective immediately looked concerned and tightened his arm around Dean as he knocked.  Good.

            A moment later a gray haired old woman answered.  Her blue eyes, identical to Cass’s, widened in surprise.  “Castiel!” she exclaimed.

            “Grandma,” Cass replied.  “I need your help.”

****

            “What did you say your name was, young man?” Grandma Esther Novak asked Dean for the third time.

            “Dean, ma’am,” Dean replied respectfully.  He hadn’t been lying to Cass when he’d said he liked old ladies.  Dean had a soft spot for the elderly, and Grandma Esther was incredibly sweet.  She fussed over Dean, getting him comfortable in a recliner and even providing a big fluffy comforter when she noticed him shivering.  She also made great pie, which Dean was busy polishing off when Cass returned.

            “So you are the one that likes the pastries,” Cass noted.

            “I do have a weakness for pie,” Dean admitted.  “And Grandma Esther, yours has probably the best crust I’ve ever tasted!  What’s your secret?”

            “Frozen lard,” she informed him, looking pleased.  “Use a fork and don’t overmix!”

            “It’s wonderful, ma’am!  I’ll have to try that.  We’re not often in a place where I have access to an oven, but when we are, I love to bake.”

            Grandma Esther smiled again, but it quickly turned into a frown as she looked Dean over.  “Dean, forgive me, but you look awful!  Castiel, shouldn’t you take him to the hospital?”

            “I can’t go to the hospital, ma’am,” Dean explained patiently.  “I’m in some trouble.  That’s why we need to talk to you.”

            She grimaced.  “You’ll have to forgive me.  My mind just isn’t what it used to be, but I have my good and bad days.”

            “It’s not a problem at all.”  Dean had quickly realized that Grandma Esther was just a bit forgetful.  Today was clearly a bad day.

            But when Cass sat down at the table with his grandmother and began to explain Dean’s situation, the old woman seemed to become far clearer.  She asked a few questions to clarify things.  Then she looked for a long time at Dean.  In her prime, Esther Novak must have been a formidable woman.  Dean felt suddenly small under that steady gaze.  He’d been sitting in a recliner with his feet up, wrapped head to toe in a warm comforter and still shivering.  Now he considered burying himself entirely.  He swallowed, waiting for the inevitable questions.

            But Grandma Esther only turned back to Cass.  “Have you two eaten yet?”

            “We had some hot pockets,” Cass replied.

            “Then get into the kitchen, Castiel, and cook something quick and warm,” she ordered.  “That boy needs sustenance!”

            “Yes, ma’am.”  Cass rose, and then hesitated.  “Grandma, do you remember, about me?  That I like men?”

            “I didn’t at first, but I do now,” she replied.  “That’s why you did this foolish thing you’ve done?  Is this your boyfriend?”

            “He’s not, but the fact that I’m attracted to him is part of it, yes,” Cass confessed.  “It’s a big part, but not all of it.  I couldn’t let him die, Grandma.  Not for breaking rules he knew nothing about.  And I wanted you to understand that, before you made any sort of decision.”

            “You took a terrible risk, Castiel,” Granny announced.  “But you did it because you stood up for what you believe is right.  And for that?  I’m proud of you.”  Rising, she kissed Cass’s cheek.  “Now go fix up some oatmeal for your handsome friend.  I’d like a word with him.”

            Cass blushed, smiled, and headed into the kitchen.

            Dean swallowed again as the old woman came and sat down next to him.  Her eyes looked Dean over and then fixed on something near his chest.  Reaching out, she took hold of the shining piece of metal sticking out from the comforter and gently but firmly pulled Dean’s arm into view.  The blue eyes, dim with age but still beautiful, moved over the runes on the handcuffs.  “Salamander wards,” she declared.  “He’s locked you up?”

            “Yes, ma’am,” Dean replied.  “Cass…  I haven’t exactly earned his trust yet.”

            “Did Castiel arrest you?”

            “He did initially, but right now, I’m not really sure if I’m under arrest, kidnapped, or what I am,” Dean confessed.  “I did some things that I kind of deserve to go to jail for.  I’ll admit that.  But drowning me?  I’m sorry, and I’m obviously a bit biased here, but I don’t think I did anything that justified drowning me!”

            “Did Castiel tell you The Rules?”

            “Most of them, yes.  But I don’t agree with them.”

            “You don’t have to agree with them, young Dean,” she said calmly.  “You simply have to obey them.  They are there for a very specific reason, and that reason is the protection of our elementals.  You see, if one elemental is exposed, so are all the others.  If there are salamanders, then there’s no reason there can’t be sylphs, undines, and pygmies.  And then our elementals are taken for study, or worse, hunted and destroyed as they were during the witchcraft trials.”  Her eyes narrowed.  “You really weren’t taught any of this, were you?”

            “Dad wasn’t much for rules of any kind,” Dean confessed.

            “Your father was a salamander as well?”  When Dean nodded, she frowned.  “He did you a terrible injustice when he neglected this aspect of your education.  By not teaching you The Rules, he failed as the father of an elemental.”

            Dean wanted to argue, to defend his father.  But all he had to do was consider his own physical condition to know she was right.  Dean coughed harshly, holding the soiled handkerchief over his mouth.  When he drew it back, it was flecked with bright red blood.

            Cass returned, carrying a lap tray with a steaming bowl.  Normally, Dean didn’t care for oatmeal.  It had the consistency and taste of wet cardboard.  But his body craved the hot gooey food.  It felt good going down.  And the taste was surprising.  “You did something to this,” he accused Cass.  “It’s actually good!”

            Cass smiled.  “I added honey and a touch of cinnamon,” he explained.

            “It’s great, Cass.  Thank you!  Thank you both.”

            Grandma Esther gave Dean’s arm a squeeze.  “You enjoy, Dean.  Castiel and I need to talk.”

            “Understood.”

            She leaned back and turned to Cass.  “What you told me?  This is very serious, Castiel,” she began.  “You’re asking me to interfere with a decision made by the Council of Elders.”

            “I’m not,” Cass insisted.  “All I’m asking is, did they consider all the facts?  Dean was judged and nearly drowned for breaking rules he knew nothing about!”

            “But consider what those rules were.”  Her voice was gentle as she spoke, and her hand reached out to clutch her grandson’s hand.  “He used his powers to commit arson and destroy important town records.  He knew that was a crime!  And worse, he hurt you!”

            “I never meant to do that,” Dean mumbled.  He was curled up on the couch again, feeling miserable, wrapped tightly in the comforter.  “We were fighting, and I was just trying to get away.  I thought he was an undine!  So when I did what I did, I expected him to counter it and give me a chance to try to run.  I was shocked when he got hurt!”

            “He was, I saw that,” Cass confirmed.  “He could have run, but he didn’t.  He stayed to make sure I was alright.  That’s the only reason he got caught, Grandma.  When Blake came in, he saw Dean over me and jumped to the wrong conclusion.  If Dean really wanted to hurt me, he would have done far worse, and he certainly wouldn’t have stayed to check on me.  It’s not right to judge him so harshly.  Should he be punished?  Absolutely!  But he didn’t deserve Final Justice.”

            Grandma Esther appeared to consider this.  “I agree,” she said at last.  “And the truth is, so does the Council of Elders.  When that vote was taken, the stipulation was that Final Justice only be carried out if Dean refused to obey The Rules or hurt someone _after_ The Rules were explained to him.  But the wording of the vote…?  The Undine carried out the letter of the vote, but not the intent.”

            “Wait!” Dean exclaimed.  “Are you saying that the Council of Elders didn’t vote to drown me?  That was the Undine acting on his own?”

            “Technically, taking you to the falls was exactly what the decision of the Council was,” she corrected.  “But it was supposed to take place after you had The Rules explained to you.  Essentially, the Undine exploited a loophole when he tried to drown you.”

            “But why?” Cass asked.  “Why would Chief Daly want to kill Dean so badly that he’d risk antagonizing the other elders?”

            “Oh, that’s easy,” Dean growled.  “To silence me!”  He shook his head, disgusted.  “You know, I don’t think that killing me was his original intent.  When he came into that shower room and saw the other undines torturing me, I think he really was upset about it.  Then he tried to talk to me.  I think he may have been about to tell me about these Rules!  But I fucked up, excuse me, ma’am, I messed up.  I gave myself away when I told him that I wanted a lawyer, but I didn’t want Crowley.  He must have known then that I knew something about Crowley.  And that’s when he decided to drown me.”

            “I don’t understand,” Cass complained, frowning.  “The Chief hates Crowley, and he’s his rival in the mayoral race.  Until everything happened, Carson had us digging up dirt on Crowley for him.  If you knew something, why would he want to keep you quiet about it?”

            “Because what I know implicates Daly, too.”  And then Dean explained what he’d found in the vault.

            A silence fell then that lasted for minutes.  Cass’s face had gone ashen, while Grandma Esther’s cheeks flared with color.  “Young man?” she said at last.  “Can you prove any of this?”

            “Most of it, yeah,” Dean replied.  “I took all those records out of the books before I burned everything in the safe.  They’re still at the courthouse, up on one of the drop ceiling tiles in the next door office.”

            “Then we need to get them back, and now,” Cass declared, rising.  “Grandma, can I please ask you to let Dean stay here with you, while I go back into town and get those records back?”

            “Of course.”  The old woman’s lips were pinched into a tight line.  She rose with an energy that belied her age.  “I’ll put you upstairs in the guest room, Dean.  But I’ll have to ask that you remain there, and quiet.  I have some phone calls to make.”  She bussed her grandson on the cheek.  “Castiel, you must be extremely careful!  Until I can persuade the Council to take another vote and perhaps revoke the sentence of Final Justice for Dean, you’ll be hunted as well!  And if what he just told us is true…?”

            “I understand,” Cass said.  “But those records are too important, especially now!  Grandma, this isn’t something that the elementals can deal with themselves.  We’ve got to get those records into the hands of an outside agent.”

            “You want an outside agent?” Dean called.  “How about Agent Sam Winchester of the FBI?”

            Cass grinned.  “I’ll get the records back, and then we’ll give your brother a call.  I still have his card.”

            “The Council of Elders isn’t going to like to involve an outsider,” Grandma Esther warned.

            “They won’t have to,” Dean said.  “Sammy’s an outside agent, but he’s not an outsider.  He’s my brother and he was born right here in Elemental Falls to a salamander father.  I never really knew him, but he’s family.  I trust him, I have to!”

            “I trust him, too,” Cass agreed.  “And I did get to know him a bit.  Sammy’s a good man, Dean.”

            Dean smiled.

            “Then he’s perfect!” Grandma Esther declared.  “Leave me that card, Castiel, and I’ll call him once I finish my other business.”

            As Cass handed over Sammy’s card, Dean was hit by another coughing fit.  This time, there was much more blood on the handkerchief when he drew it away.  That was probably not good.  But then again, maybe he could use it to his advantage?  “Cass?” he began, displaying the blood.  “You gotta take these cuffs off of me, buddy.  If I can access my powers, I can speed my healing.”

            “That is true, Castiel,” Grandma Esther agreed.  “Salamanders can’t heal like undines can, but you know every elemental can access their element to speed healing.  It’s precisely why they need to be killed using the element they’re weak against to be certain they’re dead.”

            Cass frowned.  “Dean, you’ve given me no reason to trust you, and every reason not to!” he began.  “If I let you go now, are you going to make me regret it?”

            “Castiel, the boy is coughing up blood!” Grandma Esther exclaimed.  She glared at Cass with her hands on her hips, and Cass cringed.  “For pity’s sake, let him go!”

            Cass swallowed hard.  “Yes, ma’am,” he agreed.  Then he reluctantly moved to Dean and removed the runed cuffs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun says Dean needs to stop being a douche and understand that Cass is just a good person. Cass is a little too influenced by outside sources. Says his curiosity is piqued even more about what Dean found and he does not like the author for that. Is mad Dean told them and not Mr. Fun and wants to know why he’s holding out? Yes, Mr. Fun was talking to Dean as I read this.


	39. Untouchable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake tries to help reunite Adam with Dean, but runs into unexpected trouble

            Blake had argued with Adam for ten minutes, but Adam had steadfastly refused to be rolled and tied back into the tarp.  In the end, the salamander had cheated, making sad puppy dog eyes at Blake and saying, “Please don’t?” in a small voice that made Blake feel like the world’s worst bully.  Still, Blake couldn’t imagine Adam’s present location was any more comfortable.  Adam was currently crouched down in the foot well of the passenger seat of Blake’s truck, surrounded by supplies and covered with a tarp.  Blake didn’t think it would fool any but the most cursory of uninterested glances.  But there was nothing else for it.  Now, traveling on a rarely-used dirt road that would bring them close to where Dean and Adam had their camp, Blake was trying to avoid the worst of the bumps and potholes.  Despite his best efforts, Adam was being badly bounced.  The occasional muffled curse was rising from the tarp.

            “Why don’t you just get up on the seat?” Blake said at last.  “It’s pretty unlikely that we’ll see anyone out here.”

            Adam gratefully scrambled out from under the tarp, settling back into the seat with a sigh.  “Thanks,” he called as he fastened his seat belt.

            “No problem.  Do you recognize where we are?”

            Adam looked around for a moment.  He nodded.  “We followed this road back to the creek, and then went on foot out to the campsite.”

            “Alright, I think I know where you’re camped.  There’s a big dead tree that got hit by lightning?”

            “That’s the place!”  Adam grinned at him.  “You really know your way around, don’t you?”

            “I’m more than just a pretty face,” Blake declared.  “I hunt these woods and know damned near every inch of them.”

            “And you’re a really good detective.  You’re a lot smarter than you look!  Er…”  Adam squirmed.  “No offense?”

            “None taken.  I get that a lot.”

            Adam went quiet after that, watching the scenery.  Earlier, Blake had explained The Rules to him.  Adam had listened attentively, frequently asking questions to clarify what he was being told.  Since then, he’d largely done exactly what he was doing now, staring off while chewing on his lower lip.  The salamander clearly had a lot on his mind.  Blake wondered, though, just how much of Adam’s mind was preoccupied with The Rules.  After all, Adam had been through quite a bit recently, in a very short amount of time.

            Blake kept stealing glances at Adam, his mind only half on his driving.  In his memory, Blake replayed this morning.  He was all too aware that, after Gwen, he still had a lot of healing to do.  Adam, he knew, was much the same, having recently lost his girlfriend.  But the two of them certainly had something together.  Being with Adam was different than any other relationship Blake had been in before.  It wasn’t just that Adam was a man, either.  Adam seemed to fill up all the empty space inside of Blake.  It was as if he was the missing piece to the jigsaw puzzle of Blake’s soul.  Adam had been right, Blake decided.  From the moment they’d sang together, they’d connected on a level Blake had never felt before with anyone.

            Reaching their destination, Blake parked and the two of them walked into the little camp.  Adam went into the tent and began to gather his belongings.  But he soon went still, staring at the other side of the tent where his friend’s belongings lay.  “Blake?” he began.  “I love spending time with you, but…”

            “I get it,” Blake assured.  “You’re a salamander, and the two of you don’t have anything but each other.  I know you need him, buddy, and it’s fine.  Now, we’ve given Cass more than enough time.  Grab your stuff, let’s get it to the truck, and I’ll call Granny Novak.  I’d bet money he’s there.”

            That made Adam smile.  The sight of that smile made something flutter in Blake’s chest as Adam went back to packing.  “Let’s take everything,” Adam decided.  “When we get back to Cass and Dean, Dean’s going to need his stuff.”

            “I’ll help.”

            With two of them, the camp was quickly taken down.  Blake and Adam carried everything out and loaded it into the back of the truck.  Then Adam waited expectantly as Blake dialed Esther Novak.

            But it wasn’t Esther, or Cass, or even Dean who answered the phone.  “Blake?” Carson’s voice asked.

            Blake blinked.  “Carson?  What are you doing at Esther Novak’s?”  He didn’t miss the way Adam’s face paled.  His own stomach was churning.

            “Blake, are you calling Esther looking for Cass?”

            Blake considered his options.  If he said no, he had no reason to be calling his partner’s grandmother.  “Yeah, he wasn’t at his house.  I’ve been looking for him all morning,” he lied.

            “So he’s not with you.”  It wasn’t a question.

            “No, he’s not.  Carson, what’s going on?  Your voice sounds mighty funny.”

            A deep sigh came over the phone.  “Get out here, Blake.  Now.”

            “Ok, now you got me scared, boss,” Blake admitted.  “What the hell is going on?”

            “Just get out here!  Vacation’s over, buddy, you’re back on the job.”  And then the phone went dead.

            Blake dreaded meeting Adam’s eyes when he hung up his phone.  Sure enough, the beautiful hazel eyes that stared back at him were wide and full of fear.  Adam had been so happy a moment ago, and now…?  “Blake, why are the police there?” Adam wanted to know.  “What happened?  Where’s Dean?”

            Blake pulled him close and hugged him tightly.  “Something must have happened at Esther Novak’s, and that’s not good for a lot of reasons,” he said.  He gently stroked Adam’s hair, trying to calm his lover as Adam shuddered.  “Listen, it doesn’t mean Dean’s hurt or… anything else, alright?  Something happened, that’s all we know.  Now I gotta go out there.  I can leave you here…”

            “No!”  Adam clung fiercely to Blake.  “Don’t leave me!  All I can think is that Dean’s back at the falls, and I cannot deal with that alone.  I just can’t!”

            “Alright, alright, calm down.  I’m not leaving you.”  Blake kissed the top of Adam’s head.  “But Adam, if I take you with me, we’re taking a terrible risk.  I’m about to head into a place that I’m betting is going to be swarming with cops!  If anyone sees you…?”

            “Then put me back into the fucking tarp, I don’t care!  I just have to know what happened to Dean!  Please, Blake!”

            “Shhh, alright, Rockstar.  I’m not going anywhere without you.  Stop this now, ya hear?”  He gently wiped the tears from Adam’s face that Adam hadn’t realized were there.

            Adam smiled.  “Thanks, Big Country.”  His eyes flicked to the camping equipment still in the back of Blake’s truck.  “You gonna put me back in that tarp?”

            Blake shook his head.  “Covering you with it in the front of the truck should be enough.  Not like anyone’s going to check my truck.”  Blake’s hand moved to the salamander cuffs still on Adam’s wrist.  “You want me to take these off?”

            Adam fingered the cuffs.  But then he shook his head.  “No.  I can’t control my power if I lose control of my emotions, and frankly, I’m ready to fall completely apart.  You take these off of me now, I’ll end up burning down the entire town!  Just take me to Dean, Blake, please?”

            Blake kissed him again.  Then he pulled back, reached into his pocket, pulled a golden key off of his key ring and pressed it into Adam’s hand.  “This can unlock any of our cuffs with elemental runes,” he explained.  “I want you to be able to take those off, just in case you need to.  Now remember, until we learn otherwise, Dean’s alright.  Ok?”

            Adam nodded, but he didn’t look convinced.

****

            Blake had expected the police cars that filled up Esther Novak’s fancy U-shaped driveway.  But he hadn’t expected everyone else.  A fire truck took up most of the room, barely missing the concrete awning.  It was surrounded by cars belonging to the Elemental Falls Volunteer Fire Department.  The V.F.D members themselves were busy milling around on the property, checking into the cause of the black smoke that still rolled from the broken windows.  Blake had seen the smoke from some distance away.  Esther’s once beautiful home was scorched on the first floor, most of the wind catchers on the house and porch burned, blackened, or melted.  But worst of all was the coroner’s van, where an ominous black bag was being loaded into the back, watched over by cops with pale, stricken faces.

            They wouldn’t look on like that if it was a suspect.  That meant…  _Not Cass, oh God, please, no, not Cass!_

            “What’s going on?”  Adam whispered from under the tarp next to him.

            Blake had to pry his clenched hands from the steering wheel.  “I don’t know,” he murmured back.  “I’m gonna go find out.  You stay down!”

            “No problem.”

            Blake got out and bolted towards the coroners.  “Who is it?” he demanded.

            “Near as we can tell, it’s Esther Novak,” a voice called from behind him.  “The dental records will tell us for sure.  No other way to make a positive I.D. now.”

            Blake turned around and saw Carson.  The Chief of Police was still dressed in the uniform of the Little League team he coached.  He must have come over from a game.  He looked haggard as he came closer.  “Esther?” Blake asked, confused.  “What happened?”

            “That’s what you are going to find out!”  Carson indicated the building.  “When the V.F.D. got here, the living room and kitchen were in flames and the fire was spreading to the second floor.  Esther was found in the living room on the couch.  It looks like she was the point of origin.”

            “What?  What do you mean, she was the point of origin?”

            “She was murdered, Blake.  Looks like a salamander attack.”  Carson’s face darkened in anger.  “I’d say Winchester somehow survived Final Justice, and now he’s on a rampage!”

            “How?” Blake wanted to know.  His head was spinning.

            Carson reached out and grasped Blake’s arm.  When he spoke, his voice was soft.  “Blake, you know how Winchester and Levine escaped the prison when you brought them in.  You know what happened there.  And you know how good he is with that ‘hide and seek’ of his!”

            “Wait, you can’t possibly think that Cass…?”

            “Only cops knew Winchester had been taken in, and Cass is the only one of us who could have potentially gotten Winchester out after we dragged him into the pool at the falls.  And now Cass is missing, Blake!  Just before you called, the officers I sent out to his house reported back that he wasn’t there, and he’d obviously packed.  I was hoping that meant he was out camping with you.  But if he wasn’t…?”

            “Hold it!” Blake exclaimed.  “What the hell are you trying to say, Carson?”

            “He’s saying that Esther Novak, Sylph and Lead Elder of the Council of Elders, just got murdered by her grandson and his salamander bitch!” Jenkins snapped, moving closer to Carson.  “Fucking Winchester is trying to pay back the elders for condemning him to Final Justice!”

            “Oi!”  It was Fergus Crowley.  The lawyer came stomping over, red in the face, and glared up at the lanky Jenkins.  “I’ll not have my client slandered, and watch what you say about salamanders!”

            “Yeah, asshole, half of us in the department are salamanders!” one of the V.F.D members snapped.  She’d been close enough to have overheard.  “Keep that shit up, and the next time your house catches fire, we’ll bring marshmallows instead of the truck!”

            Jenkins sneered.  “Lucky for me, the other half of your department is pygmies.  At least they’re dependable!”

            “Hey, fuck you!  Not every salamander’s a criminal!”

            “No, just most of ‘em!”

            _“Enough!”_   Both Undine and Salamander had joined voices to bellow at the bickering pair, and every head turned.

            “Jenkins?” Blake began.  “You need to shut the fuck up about Cass, and I mean now!  This is an open investigation, and until I solve it, the next time you open your mouth about him, I’m going to shut it with my foot.  Am I in any way unclear?”

            Jenkins eyed the big man.  “Good thing he’s got you, huh, Blake?  Especially now that Sylph isn’t here to protect him when he fucks up the entire department and puts the population at risk because he’s got the hots for some damned green-eyed pretty boy!”

            Blake clenched his fists and started forward, looking murderous.  Carson quickly stepped between them.  “This isn’t helping, either of you.  Blake, I know Cass was your friend.  We all liked him, alright?  But we both know that Cass had motive, means, and opportunity to rescue Winchester when we tried to serve Final Justice.  Now he’s gone, he didn’t go camping with you, and as a detective, you have to see that this all combines to make him a prime suspect!”

            “It’s fucking _Cass!_   Carson, you know Cass wouldn’t…!”

            “Dammit, Blake, I like him too!  The two of you were my best men.  Carson’s Angels, remember?  I don’t want to have to consider that he may have had anything to do with this any more than you do, but you need to think like a detective!  Keep an open mind until you can definitively rule Cass out as a suspect.  And Jenkins?”  Carson’s handsome face twisted into a scowl.  “I will say this exactly once.  The next time you slander another officer, I will personally hand you your ass on a platter!  Now get back to work!”

            “Unfortunately, your mouthy subordinate is only saying what the whole bloody town will be repeating once this gets out,” Crowley sighed, watching Jenkins scurry off.  “This is an elder, the Lead Elder!  She was an untouchable, and she’s been murdered!  The sylphs will be out in the street.  This is a fucking disaster!  Feelings are already so negative towards salamanders, even those here who are upstanding members of the community.  Dean Winchester doesn’t stand a chance!”

            “Winchester made his bed.  Now he can lie in it!” Carson grumbled.  “I really do not care what happens to him, to be perfectly honest.  He’s a lifelong criminal with one hell of a motive to move against the elders.  I just wish the son of a bitch would have come for me!  I’m the one who dragged him underwater, and I’m easy to find.  Why the fuck did he go after Sylph?  If he wants payback, I’m right here.  But instead, he acted like a fucking coward!”  His face twisted into a grimace of disgust.  “To burn up a sweet little old lady who never hurt anyone a day in her life?  You wait until I get my hands on that bastard!”

            “And that is precisely the problem!” Crowley spat.  His hands were clenched into fists as he glared at Carson.  “This won’t be an investigation, it will be a fucking witch hunt!”

            “Why are we so sure this is even Dean Winchester?” Blake wanted to know.  “If a salamander did this, he’s hardly the only one in this town!  There’s a lot out there with grudges against the elders, you know.”

            “That’s true,” Carson agreed.  “Adam Levine’s still out there, too, and honestly, I’m not convinced he’s not a salamander.  I was looking up background on Winchester, and his father had a known associate named Roman Levine.  I seem to recall that name showing up on the blotters more than once back when I started on the force.  If he was a salamander, then his firstborn…”

            Blake stiffened, but Crowley spoke first.  “Adam Levine had nothing to do with this!  But Detective Shelton is right.  We can’t know for certain that this was Dean Winchester.  And as Salamander, I am going to insist that I be given a chance to at least speak with him or any other salamander suspect you bring in.  And you bring them in alive!  I want to ascertain the truth of these accusations before any move is made towards exercising Final Justice.”

            Undine rolled his eyes.  “We’ve been over this, Salamander!  The Council voted…”

            “Yes, we have been over it, and Sylph…”

            “Sylph is _dead!”_ Undine exclaimed.  “They just took out her burned-up corpse in a body bag!  Someone murdered an elder, and we’re out here arguing over a possible suspect and a vote that was already taken?”

            “I am an elder, too!” Salamander yelled.  “I had a vote just as the rest of you did!  And salamanders are going to feel betrayed by one of their own far more keenly than from you lot!  It’s highly likely that, if this is the start of an attack on elders, I am next on that list!  But I still vote against Final Justice until I personally get the opportunity to speak with any suspects!”

            Undine scowled furiously at that, but didn’t respond.  Blake felt some of the tension in his body drain.  He never thought he’d be so grateful to someone like Salamander.

            “What about the new Sylph?” Undine was asking.  “Has anyone talked to her yet?  She’ll need brought up to speed and initiated into the Council of Elders.”  He looked around, and brightened when his eyes fell on a familiar face exiting the house.  “Pygmy!  Have you spoken to the new Sylph?”

            “Not yet.”  Pygmy looked awful.  His eyes were red and puffy, and he frequently dabbed at them or blew his nose with a red handkerchief.  He carried a black velvet bag in one hand.  “I left messages, but I’m still waiting for a return call.  Meanwhile, I went in and got this.”  He opened the mouth of the bag, revealing the jeweled scepter of the Lead Elder.

            Blake didn’t miss the way that both Undine and Salamander suddenly looked up with interest.  “I don’t know the protocol here,” he complained.  “Who’s in charge until the election happens?”

            “I am, as secretary,” Pygmy said.  He wiped again at his streaming eyes.  “The first thing I’m doing is proposing a stay of execution.  Dean Winchester doesn’t go to the falls until we’ve had a chance to review the facts of the case.”

            “Seconded!” Salamander called, glaring at Undine.

            Undine’s lips pressed into a razor-thin line.  He turned to Blake.  “Blake?  Go in there and use those pretty blue eyes of yours.  Check everything out.  Do what you do best!  Then get your ass back out here and tell us what the fuck happened!”

            “Yes, Sir!”  Blake hurried into the house.

            The sickening smell of burned flesh immediately assaulted his nose, bringing with it the memory of the last time he’d been at the scene of a murder perpetrated by a salamander.  _Don’t think about Milligan,_ he told himself.  _Lives are at stake here and now, and one of them is hiding in your truck!  He’s counting on you, asshole, now focus!_

            Blake pulled on a set of gloves and searched through the living room, getting on his hands and knees for a closer look at the marks left behind by the fire.  Rising, he moved up the stairs and checked the rooms.  In one guest bedroom, he found rumpled sheets and a dented pillow.  He touched the dent in the pillow, feeling the dampness through his glove.  He spotted a bit of cloth on the ground and bent to examine it, taking in the blood that spotted it.  Then his sharp eyes fell on the window, where the screen was missing.  Blake opened the window and peered out, spotting the screen, mangled and bent, on the ground below.

            He bent down, looking at the base of the window.  Reaching through the window, he ran a gloved finger tentatively along the siding outside.  It came back with a faint trace of soot.  Rising, he called to the crime scene techs to process the room.

            Next, he went back outside using the back door and walked around the house to where he’d seen the screen.  Sparing the screen little more than a glance, Blake moved to the house and again ran his gloved finger along the siding.  Once again, the faint trace of soot.  His eyes moved down.  Kneeling, he examined the grass at the base of the house.  His eyes fell on an odd grouping of indentations in the ground in the shape of a footprint.  He frowned.  Then he rose, his eyes flicking over the ground, noting the signs.  Careful where he stepped, he moved back to the carefully-trimmed hedges, where something gleamed golden.  Blake picked up a familiar golden key.  He casually slipped into his pocket.  Then he peered behind the hedges.  There, the grass had been disturbed and the recently-placed mulch bore a couple of fairly clear prints.  Blake’s eyes moved over the marks of a work boot.  Then they examined the shoe print next to it.  His eyes locked on an indentation in the print.  Then he looked at the odd divots in the shape of a foot, identical to those he’d noted closer to the house.

            For a long moment, Blake stood still and silent as a statue.  His mind worked, trying to process what he’d seen.  This was what Cass did best, putting all of the clues together.  The clues he’d found were telling him a story, painting a picture of what had happened here.  But Blake was having trouble seeing it.  He frowned, staring at the divots in the grass.  _What would Cass make of this?_   Cass, he was sure, would have known immediately what had caused such weird marks.  The thing was, Blake knew they were familiar.  He’d seen them before.  He’d _made_ such marks before.  He stared at the marks, willing the memory to come.  But it remained stubbornly hidden.

            Alright, then.  Cass had explained to him once that, if he got stuck on a puzzle, the best thing to do was to think of something else.  But how the hell could he do that, just stand here daydreaming when so much was at stake?

            Frustrated, he looked down at his own boots.  He was dressed for casual and looked about as unprofessional as he could.  But for the shield hanging from a chain around his neck and the gun he’d had enough presence of mind to strap into place before coming out here, no one would know he was a detective.  But of course, except for those on duty, everyone was out of uniform.

            It happened then, the sudden flash of insight that Cass would have had long ago.  Blake’s eyes widened as he stared at the strange print.  Suddenly, he understood.

            For a moment, Blake forgot to breathe.  His eyes moved again, tracing the path of prints in the dirt as the pieces started to fall into place.  What he was thinking was impossible, and yet, the evidence was before his eyes.  The evidence.  Job one was to preserve the evidence.  Blake pulled out his cell phone, nearly dropped it from his shaking hands, and took pictures of the prints.  Satisfied, he put his phone back into his pocket and forced himself to regain composure.  He needed to go back and report what it was he’d found.  He just hoped his acting skills were up to par.

            When Blake returned, Undine and Salamander were arguing again, while Pygmy looked on with irritation.

            “This was an untouchable elder who was just murdered,” Salamander was saying.  “Unless your department proves it’s got a handle on things, the sylphs are going to riot and my salamanders will be in danger!”

            “I’m aware!” Undine snapped.  “I’ve already called for reinforcements from the neighboring towns.  We’ll step up the patrols to keep things under control.”  He brightened as he noticed Blake.  “Blake!  Talk to me!”

            “I can’t say one way or another if a salamander committed the crime, but there was definitely one here,” Blake reported.  He schooled his expression and chose his words carefully.  “The screen was removed in one of the guest bedrooms upstairs, and there’s the remains of a fire trail down the side of the house.  But there was absolutely more than one person here.  Looks like some sort of scuffle took place on the ground outside, especially by that hedge.”

            “Then we know for sure that a salamander was here.”  Undine narrowed his blue eyes at Blake.  “I don’t care what it takes, Blake.  You use every resource.  You do whatever you have to do.  But you solve this case!”

            “Without bloodshed,” Pygmy stipulated.  “Don’t you hurt either of those boys, Shelton, not without a fair hearing!”

            Salamander inclined his head respectfully towards the other elder.  “Thank you, Pygmy!  Be careful with those two, Shelton, especially Levine!  Whatever Winchester may or may not have done, Levine is innocent until proven guilty.  And right now, there’s no evidence whatsoever linking him to…”

            “…To one of the elders who ordered that his lover be taken to the falls?” Undine asked, cocking an eyebrow at Salamander.  “I’d say he’s got just as much motive as Winchester!  What is it with you and Levine anyway, Salamander?”

            “Levine is my successor,” Salamander confessed.  “As such, he’s nearly as untouchable as I am.  And I want you to make sure that all of your undines know that!”

            “What?!”  Undine gaped at Salamander.  “You want _Levine_ for your successor?  He’s a known criminal!  He’s wanted in a federal investigation!”

            “And he is the most powerful salamander I’ve seen in generations.”  Surprisingly, it was Pygmy who spoke.  “The salamanders especially value power in their elder.  Levine is actually the obvious choice.”

            Undine sputtered.  “Pygmy!  You knew all along that Levine was a salamander?  And you let us believe he wasn’t?”

            Pygmy shrugged.  “I can’t help what you believe, Undine.  Shelton, you treat Levine with kid gloves.  And Undine, that goes for you and your people, too.  As a successor, we can eliminate him as a suspect in this murder, though.  Attacking an untouchable elder is pretty much the only thing he could have done that would disqualify him as the next Salamander, so there’s no way he’d do it.”  He frowned, turning to Salamander.  “He does know, right, Salamander?  You told him he’s your successor?”

            “Of course!”

            “What about Cass?” Blake asked.  “Cass didn’t do this, Undine.  You _know_ Cass didn’t do this!  He loved his grandmother!”

            “Blake, you need to consider the possibility that Winchester may have control of him,” Undine said gently.  “Cass may actually be a hostage here.  We’re talking about a salamander with a history of violence!  Normally, Cass could defend himself, but Winchester already burned him once!”

            Blake nodded slowly.  “Literally and figuratively.  I get it.  I don’t like it one bit, but I get it.”  He paused.  “Anyone heard from that FBI agent?  Sammy?”

            “Last I saw him was at the falls, after we found out his brother wasn’t in the pool,” Undine said.  “Salamander, I thought he was going back to your office to see you, since you wouldn’t discuss anything with him at the falls?”

            “He did,” Salamander said.  “Quite the rude moose, he was!  He asked some prying questions, argued with me a bit about certain attorney-client privileges, and then stormed off.  Good riddance, I say!  Why?”

            “I’d like to talk to him, get him involved in this,” Blake replied.  “Especially since it might involve his brother.”

            Undine made a face.  “I really think it’s better that we handle this ourselves,” he said.  “But you’re right.  It does involve his brother.  I’ll try to contact him.”

            “I’ll head back to my office, start preparing for Winchester’s legal defense,” Crowley said.  “Just in the off chance certain elementals don’t immediately drag him to the falls the instant they capture him!”

            “Do not let that happen, Undine,” Pygmy warned.  “I’m going to go into town, see what I can do to settle things down.  The last thing we need is a riot.”  He turned and stomped off.

            “Then I’ll get back to work.”  Blake inclined his head respectfully.  “Elders.”

            “Wait just a minute, Blake,” Undine called, catching Blake’s arm as the detective turned to leave.  His eyes were on Salamander.  “As much as it pains me to say it, Salamander is right.  If this is a vendetta against the elders, then we’re all in danger.  Crowley just named his successor, and now I’m going to name mine.”  Undine’s hand moved to Blake’s shoulder.  “In the presence of all here to witness, I formally announce that Blake Shelton is my choice as successor to the title of Undine.”

            Nothing his elder could have said would have shocked Blake more.  “What?  _What?_   I’m not the most powerful by a long shot!  I don’t know anything about leading!  Why the hell would you want me?”

            “There’s a lot of reasons,” Undine explained.  “But the biggest reason is Adam Milligan.  Blake, when every other undine, even those with more power or better leader qualities, was milling around losing their head, you kept yours.  You stayed cool, and it was you and Cass who got Milligan away from the town, lured him out to the falls, and did what had to be done.  That’s the sort of thing that marks a real example to our element, Blake.  You represented us that day in a way no one could deny.  And you’ve continued to do so.  You’re it, buddy.  You are my choice.”

            “Congratulations, Detective Shelton,” Salamander called.

            Blake felt faint.  He could see the eyes of his fellow undines who had been close enough to hear fixing on him, looking at him in a way they’d never done before.  And to his absolute amazement, not one of them appeared to be disapproving.  In fact, most of them were nodding.  Some were even smiling!  Blake swallowed hard.  “I should get going,” he said weakly.

            Undine squeezed his arm, and then patted him on the shoulder.  “Go on, Blake,” he called.  “Go do your job.  Hunt down Winchester and Levine, find Cass, and bring them all back.”

            “No,” Salamander called suddenly.  “You don’t bring Levine back to the station.  You bring him to me.  Undine, get the word out.  Levine is my successor, and I will keep him safe until this is finished.  No one is to touch him except to bring him to me!”

            “I’ll get the word out.”

            Blake only nodded weakly.  Then he turned and started back towards his truck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun says Crowley’s a fucking liar because he never told Adam he was his successor and he said Sammy left. Can’t believe Sylph is dead and is upset about that. He liked that old lady and said she was awesome. Doesn’t believe it was Dean at all, and has his guesses for who it was. Thinks the scuffle Blake found was Dean fighting with the real perp. Thinks the fire trail means someone went out the window, Dean followed and fought with him even though he was sick. Thinks Blake needs to look harder!


	40. Conflicting Loyalties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam once more looks to Blake for reassurance, but this time, Blake is in no shape to provide it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loved all the lovely guesses some readers did about whodunit after the last chapter! Now on with the story, and the revelation of the real killer!

            Blake was driving, in Adam’s opinion, like a maniac.  “Blake, slow down!” Adam pleaded from the passenger side foot well, where he was once again hidden by the tarp.  “And are you trying to hit every bump and pothole in the road?  I’m going to be black and blue by the time we get wherever we’re going!”  He paused.  “Where are we going, anyway?  What’s going on?”

            Blake didn’t answer, although he did ease off the gas a bit.  The detective’s face was pale, but with spots of color high in his cheeks.  The muscles in his jaw worked constantly, while his grip on the steering wheel was white-knuckled.

            When Blake had returned to the truck after what seemed like a lifetime of crouching in the suffocating dark under the tarp, Adam had waited anxiously for news.  But Blake hadn’t said a word.  He’d only pulled out and driven a short distance away before pulling over again to use his phone.  But apparently, whoever it was that Blake had called hadn’t answered.  That hadn’t set well at all with Blake.  He’d thrown his phone angrily down onto the seat, started up his truck again, and took off with a squeal of tires on pavement.  He’d been driving like a bat out of hell ever since.  And he still hadn’t said a word.

            Adam didn’t understand why Blake wouldn’t tell him about Dean.  Blake knew how worried Adam was, how much he desperately needed news of his friend.  The fact that Blake wouldn’t say anything scared Adam.  But Blake’s eyes scared him even more.  The cool, confident detective he’d turned to when he’d been at his lowest point was gone.  Now, the blue eyes were wide and looked haunted, almost frightened.  They were in constant motion, flickering between the road and the rearview mirror.

            Finally, Adam couldn’t stand it anymore.  Climbing out from under the tarp, Adam pushed himself up with his arms on the seat to face Blake.  “Blake, I am about to freak out if you don’t tell me…”

            _“Get down!”_   Blake roughly shoved Adam back down, pulling the tarp over the startled salamander.  “Stay down, dammit!  No one can see you, Adam, especially not now!”

            Adam froze, shocked at this treatment and the harshness in Blake’s voice.  What could have happened to spook the big man like this?

            _“You can’t trust anyone but your own kind,”_ John Winchester’s voice echoed in his head.  _“Everyone else will use you for their own ends, and then throw you aside!”_

            Since John’s death, Adam had made it his mission in life to try to forget all the stupid shit that John Winchester had shoved down his throat.  But he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe John was right?  Now that he’d gotten what he wanted from Adam, had Blake turned on him?  Why wouldn’t he tell Adam anything?  And where, exactly, was Blake taking him?

            Adam’s heart quickened in time with the racing engine and the rapid breathing he could hear coming from the driver’s seat.  His hand moved of its own accord, reaching towards his pocket and the key to the salamander cuffs on his wrist.  If he could access his powers, he could escape!  He could wait until Blake stopped or slowed down and be out the door.  Then he could use his fire trail to get away.  Once he was free, he could search for Dean on his own.  Blake couldn’t hurt him then!  But Blake was an undine.  Even if he didn’t just grab hold of Adam the instant he opened the door and dragged him back, Blake could douse any flame he could create.  Adam knew how to fight, but the much larger man could likely overpower him easily, drag him back, put the cuffs on him again, and just keep going.  Why had he let himself trust an undine cop?  Where was Blake taking him?

            Blake wasn’t John!  Blake cared about him.  And Blake wouldn’t hurt him!

            Would he?

            What had happened?  Where was Dean?  Why was Blake acting like this?

            Fear battled curiosity as Adam lay in the cramped foot well.  Both emotions were quickly overtaken by despair.  He was, Adam realized, completely at Blake’s mercy.  If he took off the cuffs now, he knew he’d lose control of his powers.  His emotions were just too out of control right now.  Crammed into this space in the darkness, there was no way Adam could focus enough to center himself.  Even if he managed to escape, Adam didn’t even know where to begin looking for Dean.  If Cass had Dean, he could have taken him anywhere.  Only Blake had any real chance of finding them.  Did Blake know that?  Was that the real reason he’d given Adam the keys to the cuffs, to demonstrate just how powerless Adam really was?

            Adam didn’t know.  All he knew was that he desperately needed to find Dean.  What if Dean really was sick, as sick as Blake seemed to think he was?  Dean had been nearly drowned.  Who knew how long he’d been underwater?  Adam knew Dean was alive, but for how long?  Maybe Dean was already dead.  Would Blake tell him?  Or would he let Adam continue to believe his friend was alive, just to keep him under control?

            Question after question and fear after fear pounded through Adam’s head as he hunched in misery, curled up into a ball in the foot well, silent and still as the truck hurried along.

            Finally, Blake slowed to a stop.  Adam stayed still, listening as Blake got out, slamming the door behind him.  Then a moment later, he heard the door on the passenger side open.  “Adam?”  Blake’s voice was soft.

            Adam felt the tarp shift slightly.  Then a gentle hand was on his back.  Adam shivered, and heard Blake sigh.  “I guess I freaked you out pretty badly, huh?  I guess I freaked out pretty badly myself, to be honest.  And that must have scared the shit out of you!”  The hand gently rubbed at his back.  “I’m so sorry, Adam.  C’mon out now, would you?”

            When Adam didn’t move, the hand on his back slid up to gently massage the back of his neck.  Blake didn’t pull off the tarp, and Adam was grateful for that.  He didn’t know how he’d handle being abruptly exposed right now.

            “Dean wasn’t there.”  Blake’s voice was soothing.  “He’s still out there somewhere, and Cass is probably still with him.  But he’s in trouble, Adam.  Dean and Cass are both in a lot of trouble!  And I think maybe Sammy’s in trouble too.  I can’t reach him, Adam, and I don’t know what to do without him to back us up!  We gotta find some way on our own to help them all now.  And I haven’t the faintest fucking idea where to even start!  I’m overwhelmed, buddy, I’m not gonna lie.  I’m sorry I snapped at you like that, but right now, I cannot let anything happen to you.”  Blake’s voice was becoming strained, and the hand closed on Adam’s shoulder.  “You’re all I got left right now!  Please, Adam.  I need your help!  Won’t you please come out and talk to me?  Please!”

            Adam reached back and clutched at Blake’s hand.  Then he climbed out from under the tarp and got out of the truck.  He immediately moved to Blake’s side and ducked under the larger man’s arm, pressing against his side.

            Blake sighed in relief and pressed a kiss to Adam’s temple.  Then he walked with him a short distance from the truck.  Ahead, Adam could see a large white farmhouse with a peaked roof, surrounded by rolling green grassland.  It was clearly well out of the town’s center.  Adam was fairly certain he’d never been here before.

            Blake took him into a copse of trees, where a wooden bench waited in the shade, and sat down with him.  The big man’s arm never left his shoulders.  Adam was grateful for that.  He reached up and took Blake’s hand.  “Where are we?”

            “Esther Novak’s property, or it was,” Blake replied with a sigh.  “This is where Cass grew up.  When they lost their parents, his sister Anna took him out here and finished raising him.  It’s a wonder he’s sane, honestly.  That woman…”  He shook his head.  “But if there’s another place Cass would go, this is it.”

            “What happened, Blake?  Back at the house?”

            His eyes on the peaceful scene before them, Blake told Adam all that had happened.  His voice was a steady monotone, even as his hand gripped Adam’s and held it tight.

            Adam listened.  He didn’t say anything, letting Blake tell the story.  But he was frowning when Blake finished by explaining that it had been Agent Sam Winchester he’d tried to call from the truck.  “Sammy should have called us right after he left Crowley’s,” Blake explained.  “I don’t believe for one moment that he would have just stormed off in a huff, not after what we told him.  I expected him to call and insist I help him find you, so he could take you into custody.  At the very least, he should have contacted Carson, gave him a heads up about Crowley and got him out looking for you, too!  Hell, Carson would have been so happy to see Crowley go down that he’d probably lead the hunt for you himself!  But if Carson didn’t see Sammy again, after he left Crowley’s…?”

            “You think Crowley did something to him?  He’s an FBI agent!  That’s pretty damned bold, even for Crowley!”

            “Unless he was desperate,” Blake pointed out.  “Right now, Crowley’s got a chance to get everything he wanted, including you.  Sammy’s the only one who could bring him down.  It all depends on what he told Crowley during that visit.  Sammy’s a good guy, and seriously smart.  But he’s just a kid, Adam, even younger than you and Dean!  I made a mistake, a bad one.  I never should have let him go see Crowley alone.  If he got himself into a situation where Crowley figured out what he knew and could trap him?  I could see Crowley getting desperate enough to do something crazy!”

            “Crowley won’t do anything that might expose Lucifer,” Adam said.  “Lucifer’s the only one that bastard’s afraid of.  And now he wants to make me take over for him, so I have to deal with Lucifer?  Fuck that!  He’s out of his mind if he thinks I’ll agree to that!”

            “You don’t have a choice buddy,” Blake explained gently.  “Neither of us do.  Once we’re announced, as soon as the elder who chose us dies, the power passes to us.  We’re elementals, so when we’re selected as elders, we have to serve.  That’s what happened to Pygmy.  He went into his role practically kicking and screaming, nagged the old Pygmy on a near-daily basis towards the end to choose someone else.  But the pygmies don’t change their minds easily, and the instant she passed, he was it.  Thing is, once the power passed to him and it was a done deal, Pygmy actually stepped up into his role.  He wanted nothing to do with the election, obviously, but he’s settled in.  Right now, he’s downtown, doing whatever he can to keep the sylphs from rioting over the death of their elder until the new Sylph settles them down.  Pygmy’s got his work cut out for him!  Sylphs are an excitable bunch, often led by their emotions.  But a pygmy, more than anyone, knows what it means to be an elemental.”

            “Yeah, well, it doesn’t mean anything to me!” Adam complained, bitter.  “It’s the reason why John stole me, and then it was just another tool I had available to get jobs done.  I get what you said, about how a lot of my personality is shaped by what I am.  But honestly, it’s more an inconvenience than anything else.”

            “It’s more than that,” Blake insisted.  “Adam, the things you can do are part of who you are.  You have the soul of an elemental fire spirit, and like it or not, it’s guided you your entire life.  Or are you going to try to tell me that you’ve never felt it, that pull on your soul, bringing you back again and again to Elemental Falls?  The barriers between this plane and the elemental planes are very thin here.  And we’re all drawn to that.”

            Adam opened his mouth to argue, to tell Blake that he only came back for his mother.  He wanted to say that once she was gone, he’d never want to set foot in this town again.  But even as he formed the words, he knew it was a lie.  Besides, Adam knew he couldn’t do without other salamanders.  Even with Dean constantly at his side, Adam had always, after a while, found himself longing to be around other salamanders again.  It didn’t even matter that he had no real friends among them outside of Dean.  Crowley had been right.  Salamanders stuck together.  That had been a huge factor in his decision to choose Dean over his mother, and even now, he couldn’t imagine himself making any other decision.  “You’re right,” he admitted.  “I do understand what it means to be an elemental.  But why me?  Crowley and I have done nothing but clash since John died!  The last time I saw the son of a bitch, he was physically forcing me and Dean to do that last job.  What could possess him to want me as his successor?”

            “Because elders generally aren’t chosen for political or personal reasons.  Salamander says you’re the most powerful, and Pygmy agrees.  And apparently, that’s a big deal to salamanders.  Pygmies like stable elders, Sylphs tend to pick elders for grandiose intellectual or emotional reasons, Undines like natural leaders, and Salamanders like power.  If you could melt through a metal safe, then you’ve obviously got some juice.  Picking you actually makes sense, but what about me?  See, I don’t get why Undine wants me!  I’m certainly not the most powerful, that would be Amanda Barnes.  And I’m certainly not leader material!  Hell, I almost got into a fist fight with Jenkins today over him badmouthing Cass…”

            “And there you have it!” Adam declared.  “When the chips are down, you don’t run.  You stand and fight.  Granted, I’m a bit biased after what those bastards did to Dean, but you’ve got a lot of good qualities that seem lacking in your fellow undines.”  Adam shyly ducked his head.  “You’re a good man, Blake.”

            “I suppose,” Blake sighed.  “And that makes this even harder.  Because I’m in a hole right now that I can’t see a way out of, Adam.  I’m torn between being a good man and being a loyal undine, and I have no idea what to do!”

            “What do you mean?”

            “I mean I’m not as dumb as I look, alright?  And Carson knows that!  Even though elders generally aren’t chosen for political or personal reasons, it does happen, and Carson may have an ulterior motive for wanting me.  I think he was testing me, buddy, wanting to see how I’d react to what I found back at Esther Novak’s place.  He waited until after I came back and told him what I’d found before he announced me as his successor.”

            “Blake?” Adam said gently.  “Why don’t you tell me what you’re talking about?”

            Blake’s arm tightened around Adam, pulling him close as if for comfort.  “Esther Novak wasn’t killed by a salamander,” he announced.  “It looks that way, but it’s supposed to.  Dean was framed, Adam.  I don’t know if that was the intention all along, or if Dean was just really unlucky, but that whole scene was set to make it look like he killed her.  She was Sylph, and the Lead Elder, and that means every elemental in town will be gunning for Dean.  And now Cass is caught in the same trap!”

            Adam gave Blake’s shoulder a light punch.  “Blake, come on, enough with the mysterious bullshit!  What did you find?”

            Blake began counting on his fingers.  “The fire started in the living room and spread, took out about half of the first floor and was starting up to the second when the V.F.D. got there.  But I found a fire trail leading out of the second floor window.  Someone pushed the screen out of that window to use it as an exit with that fire trail.  Whoever did it didn’t touch the scepter of the Lead Elder, which is worth a fortune all by itself.  Cass’s family is old money and a lot of it.  Sylph had a lot of loose valuables in that house.  But nothing seems to have been taken.  That means that Sylph was the only target, because it wasn’t a robbery.  There were signs of a fight outside, and marks in the grass, a footprint made of divots in the ground.”  He shook his head.  “Cass would have put it all together right away, but it took me a while.  Cleats, Adam!  Athletic sneakers with cleats!  I used to wear them back when I played football, and that’s what made those prints.  Until I realized that those marks in the grass were cleats, I couldn’t figure it out.  See, a salamander wouldn’t have had to leave through an upstairs window.  Even if the entire downstairs was ablaze, that wouldn’t affect a salamander, so why not go through out the front door?  The only reason for a salamander to go through an upstairs window and use a fire trail would because he was trying to get away from something, trying to escape through the quickest available exit.  Otherwise, I don’t think Dean would have let that screen fall and alert whoever was in the house.”

            Adam startled.  “You think it was Dean?  Blake, Dean wouldn’t do this!  And he’d never let his fire get away from him.  He’s got more control over his fire than any other salamander in town.  This wasn’t Dean!”

            Blake kissed him.  “Calm down.  I know it wasn’t Dean who did this, but Dean was in the house.  I think he’s the salamander who went out the window, but he didn’t kill Sylph.  He was in the upstairs bedroom, and he’s sick, Adam.  I’m betting Sylph put him to bed upstairs because he’s so sick and she was trying to take care of him.  Sick enough that, even using his fire trail to try to get away, he got caught.  The real murderer caught him out by that hedge, and they fought.”

            Adam’s face was drawn.  “You think that the person who murdered Sylph caught Dean?”

            “Not for long.  There were three sets of footprints out there, Adam.  One looked like Dean’s work boots.  One was the cleats.  And the third looked like an old set of Cass’s shoes.  I recognized them because he got tar stuck to the sole, and it made a mark we were able to use in court once to prove Cass didn’t disturb evidence.  I don’t know where he was during the murder, but Cass definitely came out to help Dean!  And Adam?  No one I know can fight better than my partner!”

            Adam brightened.  “So, what happened?  Cass saved Dean, right?”

            “I’m not sure,” Blake said, suddenly seeming uncertain.  “Cass could kick the ass of any three men, but something stopped that fight.  The cleats went back towards the house, and Cass moved off.”

            “But what about Dean?”

            “I don’t know.  The tracks disappeared.  Cass may have been carrying him?”  Blake shook his head.  “Dammit, I wish Cass was here!  He can put this shit together when I get bogged down by the details.”  He slumped.  “It doesn’t matter.  It’s not like I can arrest the murderer.”  Noticing Adam’s look, Blake explained.  “He’s untouchable, Adam.  An elder.  I saw his cleats!  He must have come to the house right out of the little league game he coaches, because he still had his cleats on.  That’s how I know it was him!”

            “Who?”

            Blake’s eyes looked haunted.  “Carson.  It was Chief Carson Daly.  He murdered the Lead Elder, and I cannot for the life of me understand why!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun says this makes sense. He thinks there’s something in Dean’s evidence that implicates Carson and Crowley. That’s why Carson’s framing Dean, and why Crowley’s holding Sam. Thinks Carson made some sort of deal with Cass and let Cass take Dean so Carson could implicate him in Sylph’s murder. And too many people knew Sam went to see Crowley, so he backed himself into a corner. Thinks Blake and Adam should go into the house because Cass and Dean are in there. Also thinks the MCD tag should be up for Sylph. Says he doesn’t care if anyone else agrees with him because he really liked her. She was a sweat old lady. Has interesting ideas about punishing Carson.


	41. The Last Place You Looked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake and Adam search for Cass and Dean

            Blake had help searching Anna Novak’s farmhouse.  If it hadn’t been for the cherry bomb Jenkins had in his Neon, which was something that always made Blake feel a little nauseated every time he thought of it, Adam might have been spotted.  As it was, the salamander was barely able to dive behind the bench before he would have been seen.

            Doing his best to stay casual, Blake helped search the house.  Jenkins had two other undines in his car with him, and all three were oddly respectful towards Blake.  Jenkins himself was all but calling him “Sir.”  Blake puzzled over this until he realized the obvious – he’d been named successor.  He’d been respected on the force before, but now he was practically royalty.  It got more and more irritating the longer it went on until Blake was surly and barely said a word to anyone.  The only good thing that came of it was that he could nominate Jenkins to deal with Anna Novak and get away with it.  Cass’s sister wasn’t happy about having her home searched and her privacy invaded, and several dishes paid dearly for her ire.  Blake almost felt sorry for Jenkins.  Almost.  With the death of her grandmother, Anna was the new Sylph, which in Blake’s opinion, was bad news for the sylphs.  But he supposed she was capable, and no more excitable than most sylphs as a rule.  How Cass had survived growing up with her and emerged as stable as he was would forever remain a mystery to Blake.

            Saying his goodbyes, Blake saw everyone out, apologized again to Anna, and headed back out to the truck.  At some point, Adam had managed to sneak back into it.  “Didn’t find him?” he asked, noting Blake’s expression when the big man climbed in.

            “In retrospect, I should have known not to waste my time,” Blake grumbled.  “If Anna was here, Cass wouldn’t be.  They don’t exactly get along, and if you spent five minutes with Anna Novak you’d understand why.  But I guess she’s Sylph now.  I would have thought she’d be happier?  She always was pretty Type A.  Real go-getter, you know?  When she got tapped for the succession, it went straight to her head.”  He shook his head.  “Doesn’t help us, though.”

            “Well, no one knows Cass better than you do, Blake.”  Adam was kneeling in the foot well, his elbows on the seat, smiling encouragingly at Blake.

            “True.  And what happened with Carson must have rattled me more than I realized.  Cass would never have come here, Adam!  Cass is running scared, but he can’t run far.  Dean’s just too sick!  He’s got to go to ground somewhere, let Dean heal.  But this place is just too obvious!”

            “Then what’s the least obvious?” Adam asked.  “It seems to me that if Cass needs a place to hide Dean, it would be in the last place you looked.”

            Blake grew still.  His blue eyes were wide, and his jaw dropped.  “Genius!” he mumbled, starting the truck.  “My boyfriend’s a genius!”

            “Do I get to meet him?” Adam asked.  “This genius boyfriend of yours?”

            “You know it’s you,” Blake chuckled.

            Adam gave him a coy smile.  “So, I’m your boyfriend now?”

            “Do you want to be?”

            The smile grew wider.  “Yeah.  I do.”

            “Then yes.  You are.  Now get back down, boyfriend.  We’re heading back into town.”

            “Where are we going?” Adam asked, sinking back into the foot well.

            “Just where you said,” Blake explained.  “To the last place I looked!  Cass is still at Esther Novak’s.  He’s been there all along!  We were just looking in the wrong place.”

****

            There were a couple of people still milling around Esther Novak’s house when Blake returned.  Blake left Adam tucked back into the foot well of his truck under the tarp and went to get rid of them.  A quick lie about how he needed to take another good look at the scene and they were gone.

            Now all Adam could do was wait.  He could picture Blake as he moved around, searching for his partner and Dean.  Adam didn’t understand.  And an eternity later, when Blake finally returned, Adam was brimming with questions.

            “Blake, wasn’t this place swarming with cops the last time we were here?” Adam whispered from under the tarp.  “I must have heard a dozen voices just milling around outside the truck! How the hell could he hide from all that?”

            “You don’t know Cass,” Blake murmured back, leaning on the door.  “Cass is a master of hide and seek.  It’s part of that meditation bullshit he does.  He tried to explain it to me once, something about ‘becoming one with the world around him,’ but that didn’t make a damned bit of sense to me.  Suffice to say, Cass is damned good at not being found when he doesn’t want to be.  He was good enough to save Dean when he was dragged underwater on the end of a chain by a bunch of undine cops!  He’s certainly good enough to hide both himself and Dean from the people here.  Especially a place like this!  He knows every inch of this property, so…”

            A muffled cough came from somewhere in the front of the house.  Blake froze.  “Holy shit, they’re right outside!” he whispered to Adam.  “Oh, Cass, you beautiful, sneaky bastard you!  I assumed you hid in the house, but you didn’t!  You were right outside, and you heard every word we said!  No fucking wonder you’re staying hidden!”

            “Blake, I don’t get it!” Adam whispered.  “What is he, invisible?”

            “Yes, of course he is!  He’s a sylph!” Blake said, exasperated.  “Dammit, Adam, didn’t anyone teach you anything at all about other elementals?  They can all go transparent to some degree, but Cass is damned good at it.  He can go flat-out invisible!”

            “What the…?”  Adam peeked out from under the tarp to glare at Blake.  “I thought you said he wasn’t an elemental!”

            “I said Cass wasn’t an undine,” Blake corrected.  “I never said he wasn’t an elemental!  He’s a sylph, Adam.  That’s why I went after Dean the way I did, when he burned him.  Cass is an air elemental, and they burn fast!  He took, and is still taking, a terrible risk by keeping Dean now.  It’s just one more reason we have to find them.”

            “Where the hell do we even look?  If he’s invisible, he could be anywhere!  Where do we start?”

            “I’m not sure.  But he’s here, Adam.  I know he is!”  Backing away from the truck, Blake turned and slowly moved forward.  “Cass?” he called.  “I know you’re out here, buddy.  And I know you heard what Carson said, how he announced that I’m his successor.  That doesn’t change anything between you and me, alright?  You’re my best friend, and I know you didn’t do this!  I also know you got Dean Winchester with you, and I know he’s not doing well.  Cass, I can heal him!  Y’all come out now, so I can help you!”

            No response.  No sound but the passing breeze stirring what was left of Grandma Esther’s wind chimes.

            “Come on, Cass!” Blake called.  “I know he’s sick!  There was a handkerchief up in one of those guest bedrooms here that was all full of the blood he’s been coughing up.  And I know he was real sick back at your place, wasn’t he?  He was nearly drowned, and his lungs have got to be a real mess!  Let me help him, Cass!  Let me help you both!”

            Adam could hear Blake, the sound of his voice moving as he walked slowly around the front of the house.  He could also hear the tension in the big man’s voice, the strain as time passed and Cass remained hidden.  “Dammit, Cass!” Blake yelled.  “You gotta let me help you, buddy!  It’s me, Blake!  I’m your partner, I’m your best friend, and I love you like a brother!  Carson naming me his successor doesn’t change that.  And I know, alright?  I know what Carson did!  I know he’s a monster, and we need to fight him together.  I can’t do it alone and neither can you.  I need you, buddy!  Please, Cass, where the hell are you?”

            No answer.  Adam listened, hearing Blake’s frustrated stomping as he stormed back to the truck.  Then, to his surprise, the passenger door opened.  The next thing Adam knew, Blake’s arms were around him and he was being pulled out, right out into the open where anyone who happened by could see him.  He yelped in surprise and panic, grabbing onto whatever he could grasp to try to keep himself from being dragged outside.  But it was no use.  Adam was out of the truck and Blake was holding him in the middle of Esther Novak’s U-shaped driveway, in full view of the street leading to the house.  He squirmed frantically.  “Blake! What the hell…”

            _“Adam!”_

            Adam snapped his head to the left in unison with Blake, looking towards the end of the overhead cement canopy that covered the walk around the driveway.  The sound had come from the end of the arching canopy.  There were more sounds, now, muffled, and the awning was trembling slightly.  Adam stared hard at the spot, and saw something.  It was like the shimmering of heat in the air, barely visible.  Yet it seemed to form two struggling shapes.  “Dean?” he called.  He squirmed, trying to pry Blake’s arms off of his waist.  “Dean!”

            The shaking intensified and was followed by a dull thud and a gasp of pain.  “Fucking let go of me!” a voice ordered.  “I’ll kick you again, you son of a bitch!”

            “Dammit, stop struggling!” a second voice pleaded.

            “No, let me go!  He’s got Adam!”

            Adam squirmed harder.  “Dean!”

            The shimmering grew more pronounced, and suddenly, there, crouched on the end of the arch, was Dean.  Dean looked awful.  His face was ashen, his cheeks were flushed and feverish, and his eyes had deep dark hollows beneath them.  He was also snarling, his green eyes flashing furiously as he glared down at Blake.  “Let him go, you piece of shit undine!” he yelled.  “I’m the one you want, and I’m right here!  Come get me!  Let Adam go!”

            Adam forgot everything else.  It was Dean, Dean was there, he was alive and he was _right there,_ and everything would be alright now.  Dean was there, and they were together, and all Adam could do was scream his name and struggle against the arms around him.  “Let me go, it’s Dean, it’s Dean, Blake, why the fuck won’t you let go of me, it’s _Dean_ and he’s ok!  Blake, Dean’s ok!  He’s…”

            Blake clamped a hand over Adam’s mouth.  “Come down, Cass,” he called.  “I’m not here to hurt you!”

            “You’re not taking him!”

            And now Adam tore his eyes away from his long-lost friend, and finally saw the other detective as he faded into view.  Cass Novak looked nearly as bad as Dean.  Fear and grief twisted his handsome features as he rose up behind Adam’s friend.  One arm wrapped around Dean’s neck, and the other encircled his waist, dragging Dean back away from the edge of the awning as Dean fought to pull free.  Adam froze in shock, finally noticing the way Dean’s arms were twisted behind his back, the flash of metal at his wrists when his struggles briefly brought them into view.  Dean was restrained!  He was a prisoner and now this crazy cop had him again!  Panicking, Adam twisted his head, ducking under Blake’s hand.  “Dean!  Blake, do something, he’s hurting Dean!”

            “Cass, what the hell are you doing?” Blake yelled, clamping his hand over Adam's mouth again.

            “I’m not hurting him!” Cass yelled back.  “But you cannot be involved in this, Blake!”

            “He’s not hurting me, he just won’t let me go!” Dean growled, still trying to twist free.  “I’ve been locked up for hours now and my fucking arms are dead!”

            “I told you I was sorry, but we’ve got bigger problems right now, Dean.”

            “Then do something about your fucking friend!”  Dean glared daggers at Blake.  “I’m the one you want, undine!  Let Adam go!”

            “Blake, why are you holding him like that?” Cass called, narrowing his eyes.  “Let him go!  He didn’t do anything here, neither of them did!”

            “Cass, I’m not here to hurt Adam, or Dean, or you,” Blake called.  The big man’s voice was calm, soothing.  “I’m not going to take anyone to the falls, alright?  I just want to help.”

            “Then start by letting Adam go!” Dean roared.  “I’m right here, dammit!  Let him…”  His body was suddenly wracked by a fit of coughing.

            “Cass, would you listen to him?” Blake pleaded.  “He needs help, and so do you!”

            “Blake, you’re going to do two things.  First, you’re going to let Levine go.  He’ll stay right there where he is, so Dean can see for himself that he’s alright.  Then, you’re going to get back into your truck, and you are going to leave.  And don’t try to find us again, Blake!  Just leave us alone!”

            “You want me to let Adam go?  Fine!”  Blake suddenly put Adam down and backed away.  Adam turned, looking at him in shock as Blake took a few steps back and raised his hands.  “Cass, I cannot imagine what you are thinking and feeling right now, so I’ll play this much your way.  You wanted Adam, and here he is, ok?  He’s not my prisoner.  Now you let Dean go too, because these two really need each other.  But I’m not leaving, Cass.  I’m staying right here.”

            “Fine!” Dean spat.  “Go kick his ass, Cass!  Curb stomp that son of a bitch!”

            “Dammit, Dean!  Stop trying to get Cass to hurt Blake!” Adam exclaimed.  “He wasn’t hurting me!  He dragged me out here because he knew you’d come out if you saw me, and it worked!  Now stop being a douche and get down here!”

            “Seriously?” Dean yelled back.  “Adam, I would love to fucking come down there, but Angel Eyes here will not let go of me!”

            “What’s your fucking problem, Novak?” Adam asked.  “Why won’t you let him go?”

            “Because I won’t condemn Blake, or you!  And…”  Cass cringed.  “I also don’t have the key.”

            Blake facepalmed.  Adam sputtered.  _“What?”_

            “I’m sorry, alright?  I got my coat torn while we were dealing with Carson and it fell out of my pocket.”

            “You see what I’ve been dealing with?”  Dean rolled his eyes.  “I swear, Cass…!”

            “Oh for…!  Here!”  Adam dug into his pocket, produced the golden key Blake had given him, and tossed it up towards the two on the awning.

            Keeping his arm locked securely around the neck of the irritated salamander, Cass snatched the key out of the air.  “Thank you,” he said.  “That was a problem.”

            “Cass!”  Blake’s voice was sharp now.  “You’ve got a key now, so let Dean go.  We’re all exposed out here, and at any given moment, someone could come up that street.  Then all four of us are in the shit, alright?  We both know how serious this is.  I know you’re freaked out right now, and you have no idea if you can trust me, especially after Carson named me his successor and what he did here!  But this isn’t about Carson.  This isn’t even about Dean or Adam!  Right now, it’s you and me.”  Blake slowly walked forward as he spoke.

            “Don’t listen to him, Cass,” Dean called, still trying to pull free.  “He’s just another fucking undine, and worse, he’s the successor!  Let me go, I’ll get down to Adam, and we’ll…”  Once again, he was interrupted by a fit of harsh coughing.

            “Dean, how the hell did you keep from coughing when everyone was here?” Adam wanted to know.

            “I didn’t!” Dean shot back.  “He just kept his hand over my mouth the whole time we were up here to muffle the sound when I coughed into it.  It was gross as hell!”

            “I can assure you, it wasn’t any better from my end,” Cass grumbled.  "But I had to.  I know you don't return my feelings, Dean, and all you want is to run.  But I'd do anything to save you."  He wrapped his other arm around Dean as if for comfort, ignoring the way Dean snarled and tried again to twist free.  Cass closed his eyes and buried his face for a moment in Dean's neck.  Then he looked down at Blake, his eyes pleading.  “They tried to drown him, Blake!  He’d be dead if I hadn’t been there!  I interfered with Final Justice, and I knew I’d pay the price for it.  I’m alright with the fact that they’ll probably take me to the stake.  But not you, Blake.  Not you!”

            Adam looked sharply at Blake, and saw the big man’s lips pinch together.  From what Blake had told him about Final Justice, any elemental that interfered with it faced Final Justice as well.  Cass was a sylph.  For saving Dean, he’d condemned himself to be burned at the stake. 

            And now, it seemed Dean realized it as well.  “I’m not worth it!  Cass, let me go, please!  I’m not worth you dying for!”

            “You are to me.”

            “Cass, if he’s worth dying for, then he’s worth living for,” Blake reasoned.  “Let me help him, buddy.”

            “You can’t be involved!”

            “I’m already involved,” Blake declared.  “And I’m not leaving you.  I’m staying with you, and if you run, I’ll come after you.  I will chase you to the ends of the earth!”

            Cass’s face fell.  “Why did you come after us, Blake?”

            “Because I love you, buddy,” Blake said simply.  “You’re my best friend.  I won’t let you face this alone.  Whatever’s coming, we’re partners.”

            Dean and Adam had grown silent, listening to this exchange.  Cass was visibly trembling now.  His arms tightened protectively around Dean as he looked down at Blake.  Blake simply stared back.

            To Adam’s relief, the trench coated detective let go of his friend’s neck, wrapping both arms around Dean’s waist.  But for some reason, Dean suddenly appeared alarmed.  “Oh, hell no!  Not again!  Don’t you do it, Cass!  Don’t you fucking do it!  _Cass!”_

            The trench coat billowed out behind Cass, almost wing-like.  And suddenly, he and Dean faded away.  The only sign that they were still there was the fact that Dean was screaming bloody murder, which quickly devolved into coughing.  But the sound was clearly coming from a spot much higher than the pair had just been.  Adam’s heart nearly stopped.  Cass was a sylph, and, while he’d forgotten or hadn’t known they could go invisible, he knew for a fact that they could fly!  If Cass took Dean away now, would he ever find his friend again?

            But then he realized that the sound of Dean coughing and cursing was coming closer.  And a moment later, the pair rematerialized near Adam and Blake.

            “Yes, put me down!  Oh, thank God!” Dean moaned as his feet once again touched the ground.  “I gotta tell you, Adam.  Flying?  It’s really not all it’s cracked up to be!  I never want to fly again as long as I live!”

            “Sorry,” Cass called.  He was busy using the key Adam had tossed him to free Dean’s hands.

            Dean groaned, twisting and flexing his arms to restore circulation.  “Dammit, Cass, you’re such an asshole!  I cannot believe you lost that key!  I…”

            And then Adam glomped him, wrapping Dean in a bear hug that made the other salamander’s ribs creak.  Dean’s eyes went wide.  Then they softened as his arms went around Adam.  “I’m ok,” he soothed.  “We’re both ok.”

            “We are now,” Adam mumbled, clinging.  “Don’t you ever do that to me again, you son of a bitch!”

            “Yeah, well, fuck you, too.”

            “Up yours, Dean!”

            “Oh, bite me, Adam!”

            Blake, shaking his head, moved to Cass and put his arm around his friend’s shoulders.  “Welcome back,” he said gently.  “I got a lot to tell you.”

            “Yeah,” Cass replied, moving to hug Blake.  “We’ve got a lot to tell you, too.”

            “First things first, though,” Blake declared.  “Dean, c’mere, buddy.  Let me get those lungs healed up.”

            Healing Dean was a much greater ordeal than it probably should have been.  Blake suspected that the traumatized young man would panic the instant the healing waters moved into his airway, and he’d been right.  But he hadn’t expected Dean to kick him in the nuts.  It had taken all three of them to hold Dean down before Blake could heal him, with Adam cursing Dean out the entire time in the odd verbal abuse that the two employed in place of reassurance. 

            But once Blake finished, the difference was immediately apparent.  Dean just stayed still for a moment, taking in deep breaths, enjoying the way he could breathe without pain.  And then the green eyes finally softened as they turned to regard Blake.  “You’re not bad, for an undine,” he said gruffly.

            Blake smiled.  “You’re welcome.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun did a victory song and dance for a good five minutes, going on and on about how he was right even though he’d had other guesses about Cass. He actually realized Cass was a sylph way back because Cass is a champion kite flyer. I’m glad he caught my first real clue about him! Says Dean is not bad for a douche. Laughed very hard about Cass losing the key!
> 
> **GOLD STAR** Anamari! You not only called Cass's elemental type, but you listed off his two biggest powers! Are you reading over my shoulder? Well done!
> 
> **SILVER STAR** to Anit for calling that, like Adam Milligan, the elemental powers manifested in both Cass and his sister.


	42. Regrouping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Together again once more, Blake, Cass, Dean and Adam try to fill in the blanks on what they missed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A brief word of explanation. This chapter starts a critical segment that was initially all together. However, the finished result was over twenty pages long in Word and contained a ton of information! Rather than post such a huge chapter and run the risk of overload, I chose instead to break it down into smaller bits. Sorry about the cliffhangers!

            “They weren’t there,” Cass said.  “I went to the courthouse and I checked where you said those records were, Dean.  But they weren’t there!”

            “Fuck me!” Dean swore.  “That was the only leverage we had!  You checked the office with the big plant?”

            “Yes, and I did a quick search of the other two offices just to be sure.  The courthouse still isn’t open while they wait for the damages to be repaired, so the building was empty and I could check all over.  The records aren’t there, Dean.  So I started back and was almost at the house when grandma died.”  He paused for a moment, grief filling his eyes once more.  “I knew I needed to get back in a hurry, so I pulled over and flew in.  I imagine they found my car by now, which means I lost all my stuff.”

            “We can get it back,” Blake assured.  “Right now, no one suspects me, so I can go pick it up, say I want to look through it for evidence.”

            “But we’re still screwed!”  Dean kicked an innocent doorway.  “Without those records, we’ve got nothing to give to Sammy, and he can’t help us!”

            “We actually thought of Sammy, too,” Blake said.  “We called him, and he came back to town.  He’s already on the case.”  He paused.  “Except now no one seems to know where he is.  I think he’s in trouble.”

            “Fuck!  _Fuck!”_   Dean was in danger of breaking his foot if he kicked the doorway any harder.

            Adam rose, but Blake quickly grabbed his arm.  Adam looked at him, confused, and Blake shook his head.  Then Blake pointed with his chin.

            Cass had gone to Dean.  He’d put his arm around Dean’s shoulders and was speaking softly to the agitated salamander.  And the tension was going out of Dean’s body.  One hand reached up, found Cass’s, and gave it a squeeze.

            Blake watched with amusement as Adam’s eyebrows shot up.  He met Adam’s eyes and shook his head.  Adam shrugged his shoulders and grinned.

            Meanwhile, a much calmer Dean had started pacing.  “We gotta help Sammy somehow, but how?” he wanted to know.  “Three out of four of us are wanted men.  If my evidence is gone and we don’t know where Sammy is, then what’s our plan?”

            Blue, green, and hazel eyes suddenly fixed on Blake.  Blake grimaced.  “Guys, why are y’all looking at me?  I’m as clueless as the rest of you!”

            “C’mon, Big Country!” Adam pleaded.  “I don’t think any of us expects you to have all the answers but we need you to make a decision on where to go from here.”

            “How the hell can I do that?  All I know is that I won’t let you two be drowned or Cass be taken to that stake, and I certainly don’t plan on getting better acquainted with the stoning ground!  But unless we can find Dean’s evidence and get it to Sammy, all four of us are headed for the falls.  And I still don’t get why y’all are still looking at me!  Why am I suddenly the leader here?  Yeah, I got tapped as a successor, but so did Adam!  Frankly, once Carson figures out what I’m really up to, I’ll bet he picks someone else fast!”

            “Actually Crowley didn’t tell me anything about being his successor,” Adam corrected.  “Can he still force me into it if he never told me?”

            Blake groaned.  “That’s why he wants you brought to him!  I should have known.  He was probably going to ambush you with that one, Rockstar!  See, there’s a bit of a ritual involved.  He has to physically touch you and declare in front of a witness that you’re his successor for the power to pass to you.  And when Carson did it to me?  I almost fell over, and not just from the surprise!  It’s a jolt, your elemental spirit preparing you to take on the power of an elder.”

            “Then when the old elder kicks the bucket or gets censored, as an elder, you can take on the form of a true elemental spirit, right?” Dean asked.  For some reason, he was grinning excitedly.  “Like, Blake would be living water and Adam would be fire?”

            “That’s the power of an elder, yes.”  Blake plopped irritably into a chair and crossed his arms.  “Well, shit!  I guess that means I do outrank everyone else here then, doesn’t it?”

            “Wrong!” Dean called gleefully.  “Sorry big guy, but Cass has you beat!  Show ‘em, Cass!”

            Cass shifted uncomfortably.  “Dean…”

            “Come on, show ‘em?”

            Cass made a small noise, part grunt, part groan, and shot Dean a pleading look.  But Dean only stared back, making a twirling gesture with his hand to hurry Cass.  Cass looked at Blake and Adam, saw nothing but curiosity, and seemed to wilt.  “Please don’t make too big of a deal over this?” he pleaded.

            Then Cass vanished.  He didn’t fade out, as he’d done before when he’d gone invisible.  He was simply gone.  But the air was greatly disturbed as the other three stood together in the smoke-damaged dining room of Esther Novak’s former home.  A breeze rippled through their hair and clothes seeming to come from nowhere.  Blake looked at Adam and saw his own confused expression mirrored there.

            “Hang on!” Dean called.  He raced to the kitchen and returned with a ceramic pot.  Opening the top, he reached inside, got a handful of flour, and threw it towards where Cass had been a moment ago.

            It was like watching a ghost materialize.  The flour spun and whirled, moving like mist to rise and flow through the air to form a torso, legs, arms, and head.  Grinning broadly, Dean dumped the rest of the flour over the faint figure.  Now it was more clear.  Cass stood exactly where he’d been before, somehow made out of wind and flour.

            Blake gasped, understanding what he was seeing.  “Pure elemental spirit!  Holy shit, Cass!  I wondered how you’d known when your gram had passed.  It’s because when she did, you became Sylph!  When the hell were you planning on telling me you were a successor, you little prick?!”

            “She only chose me today,” the flour man replied, hanging his head.  “Believe me, I didn’t want it any more than you did, Blake.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go outside and get rid of this flour, or I’ll be covered with it when I change back.”

            “Does your sister know?” Blake called after him as he started out.

            “No, and I have no intention of telling her!”

            “She’s gonna know something’s up,” Adam said, shrugging as Cass slammed the door behind himself.  “If Sylph died and the power didn’t pass to her, then obviously Sylph chose someone else!”

            “No wonder she was such a bitch when we searched her house,” Blake mused.  “I mean, Anna Novak is a bitch by general nature, but she was worse than usual when we were there.  Well!  That changes things, doesn’t it?”

            “How?” Dean wanted to know.  “He’s still Cass, just a lot more powerful.”

            “Because he’s untouchable, moron!” Adam retorted.  “He’s leader of the sylphs, and, unless they vote to censor him, they’ll kick the shit out of anyone who touches him.  Carson and his cronies can’t take him to the stake now!”

            “Yes he can, dumbass!” Dean fired back.  He turned and indicated the fire damage with a grand sweep of his arm.  “Clearly, the fact that Esther Novak was Sylph didn’t deter Daly.  He murdered her right in that room out there, and she was Lead Elder!  He’s not going to hesitate to drag Cass out to the falls, tie him to that stake, and light him up if he gets the chance, ok?  And that cannot happen!”  Dean’s voice cracked a little.  “Cass cannot wind up burning at a stake because of me!”

            “That will happen over my dead body,” Blake growled.  “Although right now, I can’t see Carson hesitating to throw the first stone at me, either.  I mean, Esther Novak?  I never thought he could do something like this!”

            “Oh, Blake, you don’t know the half of it!” Cass called.  He’d just returned, flour free.

            “Then tell us!” Blake ordered.  “You guys know something, don’t you?  Spill it!”

            Cass and Dean looked at each other for a moment.  And then Dean began to speak.  “Carson and his undines took me to the falls, chained me up, dragged me under the water.  Down there…  I really thought I was going to die!  By the time Cass rescued me, I was in pretty bad shape.  He nursed me through the night, and that morning, before sunrise, he shoved me into the trunk of his damned Prius and drove me to his grandma’s.  He didn’t tell me she was Sylph!  He just said she had political connections.  So we went out there, I met her.  I really liked her, by the way.  Carson’s a fucking asshole.  She was a really nice old lady, Cass, and I’m sorry you lost her.”

            Cass’s grief was still fresh, and now it showed once more on his face.  “Appreciate it.”

            Dean reached over and squeezed his arm.  Then he returned his attention to Blake.  “The problem was that I hadn’t exactly painted myself in glory while Cass had me.  Probably doesn’t surprise you…”

            “Not even the slightest,” Adam grumbled.

            “…But this is how cool Sylph was.  Unlike my asshole friend, she was willing to give me a chance.  Despite everything, she still made Cass take those damned salamander cuffs off of me.  All she did was lock me in one of the upstairs rooms.”

****

            Dean nearly moaned aloud in relief when the salamander cuffs were finally removed and his power returned, the familiar fire flooding his veins.  It wasn’t much, but it helped.  Dean let himself sag into the recliner and closed his eyes.  Almost immediately, fatigue took over as his body began the task of healing itself.  Dean fell in, feeling consciousness fade…

            “Dean?  Dean!”

            Dean’s eyes snapped open.  He stared stupidly at Cass.  The detective was leaning over him, one hand on Dean’s shoulder and the other gently stroking his cheek.  The blue eyes were full of concern.  “You went gray, Dean!  And you were so still, for a moment, I thought you’d stopped breathing again!”

            “Dude, I just fell asleep!” Dean grumbled.  He swatted at Cass’s hand.  “Leave me alone!”

            Cass pushed Dean’s hand down and pressed the back of his hand against Dean’s forehead.  “You’re burning up, Dean.  Your fever is back.”

            “Then let me rest and heal!”

            “The poor boy is exhausted,” Grandma Esther declared.  “Castiel, get him into one of the guest bedrooms, and we’ll lock him in.”

            “Aw, c’mon!  Don’t lock me in!” Dean whined.  “Why do you keep treating me like I’m a dangerous prisoner?”

            “Because you are.”  Grandma Esther’s voice had a note of steel in it that roused Dean from his drowsy state.  “You hurt my grandson, Dean Winchester.  You’ve tricked him, and you’re a liar and a thief and God alone knows what else.  You have proven yourself to be untrustworthy time and time again!”  She crossed her arms over her chest and gave Dean a stern look.  “Hear me now, young man.  You’re a salamander, and I am well aware that if you wished to escape, you could get out of any room I could put you in.  But I am leaving those cuffs off of you because you need your powers to start healing yourself until I can find someone trustworthy to help you.  Otherwise, I would have Castiel cuff you to the bed.  I’m not doing that, but I do not trust you enough not to at least lock you in.  Do not betray what little trust I am willing to place in you!”

            Dean swallowed, cowed.  “Yes, ma’am.”

            Cass smiled and helped Dean up.  “Come on, Dean,” he urged, pulling one of Dean’s arms across his shoulders and slipping his own arm around the other man’s waist.  “Let’s get you upstairs.”

            Dean had planned on continuing his ruse of trying to appear worse than he was.  But when Cass helped him up the stairs, Dean was surprised at just how weak and sick he actually was.  Ok, apparently he was worse off than he’d thought.  That was a problem.  He couldn’t get to Adam if he could barely walk!  Fine.  He’d stay with the detective for now, let Cass help him, maybe even see what strings Grandma Esther could pull.  And of course, have more of that pie!

            He’d long ago realized that Cass was far stronger than he looked.  He was thin, but he was pretty much solid muscle under that damned trench coat.  Dean was leaning heavily on the detective, but Cass never faltered, supporting his weight with surprising ease.  Yeah, staying with Cass for now was certainly the best idea.  And the only reason he felt good about that was because he needed help.  Never mind how sexy it was, the way Cass could handle him.  It had nothing at all to do with how comforted and somehow _safe_ he felt with Cass’s arm around him.  Nor did it have anything to do with the relief he kept feeling every time he looked over and saw those beautiful angel eyes watching, realized he didn’t have to be constantly on his guard because Cass would look after him.  So what if he was pressing against Cass a bit more than he really needed to be while Cass helped him up the stairs and into one of the guest bedrooms?  It didn’t mean anything.

            Dean almost had himself convinced of all this, right up to the point where Cass eased him down to sit on the bed.  Then those deep blue eyes looked into his and Cass’s lips curled into a smile.  The detective had probably been about to say something, but Dean never heard it.  That was the point when he’d thrown his arms around Cass’s neck and kissed him.

            Cass gasped in surprise, startled a bit.  But he made no move to pull away.  Instead, his hand moved to cup the back of Dean’s head, fingers burying themselves in Dean’s hair as he returned the kiss.  And Dean kept right on kissing him until he heard a giggle from the door.

            Blushing to the roots of his hair, Dean quickly pulled away.  He glanced at Grandma Esther, who was still giggling from the doorway, hiding her mouth behind one wrinkled hand as her sparkling eyes enjoyed the show.  “Oh, Castiel!  He’s a feisty one, isn’t he?”

            Cass only smiled.  He drew Dean’s head forward slightly and planted a gentle, chaste kiss on his forehead.  Then he bent down without a word and pulled Dean’s boots off.  Dean, embarrassed and shocked at his own behavior, simply sat as he was, watching Cass as he rose and took Dean’s shoulders.  He followed the pressure on his shoulders, letting Cass push him down into the bed.  “Rest,” Cass urged.  His voice was soft, and his eyes were soft as he looked down at Dean.  “Get better Dean.  I’ll go find those records.”

            Why did Cass look at him like that?  And what the hell was wrong with him?  Dean’s heart was pounding.  His palms were sweaty, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Cass’s.  Something inside of him seemed to be reaching out for the detective, and when Cass turned away, it was all Dean could do to keep from grabbing him, pulling him back and begging him to stay.  _Focus, asshole!_ he ordered himself.  _Stop swooning like a lovesick girl over a handsome cop!_  

            It wasn’t until Cass turned back and cocked an eyebrow at him that Dean realized he’d reached out and snatched the detective’s wrist.  “The records,” he managed.  “They’re in that office with the big potted fern.”

            “Of course.”

            Dammit, now Cass was adjusting the covers over Dean, and worse, leaning down to kiss him again.  This time, it was on his lips.  Dean started to rise a bit, wanting more as Cass pulled back.  But Cass’s hand on his chest prevented it.  Well, that was better anyway.  The softness and warmth that surrounded Dean now felt wonderful.  He sank into it, his eyes starting to close.

            Grandma Esther cleared her throat.  “There is one more thing,” she began.  “Dean, can you stay awake just a minute longer?”

            “Mmm hmm.”  Dean somehow managed to open his eyes.

            “I don’t know if Castiel told you,” she began, “but the reason he asked me to speak with the Council of Elders is because I am one of them.  The Lead Elder, to be exact.  I am Sylph.”

            That woke Dean up.  He sat bolt upright in bed, ignoring the wave of dizziness that caused, and looked at her in alarm.  “Cass!  You brought me here, knowing she’s one of the elders who voted to drown me?”

            “I did no such thing,” Sylph declared.  “As I told you, the vote was for you to be taken to the falls if you continued on as you were _after_ you were instructed in The Rules.  Castiel, I assume you’ve done that?”

            “Yes, ma’am.”

            “Good.  Then he is an elemental knowledgeable in The Rules, and I can proceed.”  She smiled fondly at her grandson.  “I’m getting old, Castiel.  My mind is slipping a little more every day.  That is why I’m stepping down as Lead Elder, and I’ll be moving into an assisted living facility.  I’ll have the new Lead Elder censor me, and pass on the title of Sylph.  It’s all arranged.  I’ve even arranged for my assets to be passed on, once I move out.  This house will go to you, Castiel.”

            “Grandma, I appreciate the gesture, but I couldn’t afford the taxes on my salary!” Cass protested.

            “Actually, yes you can.  Because you’re getting far more than the house.  Your sister Anna will be my power of attorney and will be in charge of most of my assets.  But this house, the land it’s on, and a substantial sum in the form of a trust fund, bearer bonds, and stock in several companies has been set aside for you.  Your sister knows.  She’s got the key to the safe deposit box and all the paperwork.”

            “Thank you,” Cass said, humbled.  “I’m glad you let Anna handle the financial stuff.  She’s good at it, just like you were.  She’ll make a fine Sylph.”

            “That’s the other thing I needed to speak with you about, Castiel, and the reason I needed your Dean to witness now.  You know, one of the great regrets in my life was that I didn’t take you in when your parents passed, that I let Anna raise you.  At the time, I was too busy with my businesses and my work as an elder.  I told myself that I didn’t have the time to care for you and that Anna could do just as good a job as I.  But that’s the problem.  Anna is too much like me, and I was, at best, barely adequate as a mother.  I loved your father, but I was never around for him.  Somehow, he turned out to be a fine man.  You’re so much like him!”  She fondly stroked his cheek.  “As I was saying, your sister would make a fine Sylph.  In truth, she’s been preparing for the role since I announced her as my successor when the old Undine passed away and I became Lead Elder.  But Castiel, looking back at my life now, I believe that I would do our people a great injustice if I handed my title to Anna precisely because she is so like me.  We’re both driven women, constantly thinking outside the box and looking for the next new idea.  And my latest new idea is one I should have thought of back then.  Because while Anna may have the discipline and the drive that I initially chose her for, I don’t believe she’s got the heart for it.”  Her hand moved to Cass’s shoulder.  “You do, Castiel.  Our people need your heart more than your sister’s drive.  And in the presence of all here to witness, I formally announce that Castiel Novak is my choice as successor to the title of Sylph.”

            Cass’s face went grey.  Dean watched, wide-eyed, as the detective swayed, the power of succession passing into him.  “Dude!” Dean complained.  “You told me you weren’t an elemental!”

            “I said I wasn’t an undine!  You never asked me if I was a sylph.”  Cass blinked, shook his head, and finally focused on Sylph.  “Grandma, why?  Why would you want me?  What do you mean about heart?”

            “Adam Milligan.”

            Dean startled at the name of his brother, but kept quiet.  Cass, however, was frowning in confusion.  “You want me because I carried out Final Justice?”

            “Castiel, on that day, when a rogue salamander was on the streets and people were dying, every sylph panicked,” Sylph explained.  “We are the essence of the air, and you know all too well how vulnerable we are to fire!  But when I sent out the call and ordered our people to the shelters, when all the rest of us cowered in fear?  One sylph went out alone to face the danger.”

            “I’m a cop!” Cass protested.  “That’s my job!  And the only reason I even got that job was because of you.  You’re the wealthiest person in town, you’re Sylph, and you’re the Lead Elder.  I know that’s why Carson approved my application, alright?  When I went out with Blake to face Milligan, all I was doing was my job, trying to protect the people of this town!”

            “Dude, that is the ballsiest thing I have ever heard!” Dean declared.  “Holy shit, no wonder I burned you so much when we fought.  A sylph, you could have gone up like a bonfire!  And I’m the second salamander you faced down?  Now I get why you didn’t want to take those cuffs off of me!  I could have burned you to a crisp in that fight, and you still came right at me!  That’s awesome!”

            “You see?” Sylph asked.  “As you yourself said, you are willing to do what it takes to defend others no matter the risk to yourself.  You proved it again by saving your friend here, Castiel, and risking all that you have fought so hard to gain because you wanted, needed, to do what was right.  That’s your heart, my darling angel!  These are difficult times.  Our people will need that heart to see them through.  And that is why I chose you.”

            Dean burst into applause.  “Way to go, Cass!” he cheered.  “You’ve earned it, buddy.”

            Cass seemed to wilt.  “Does Anna know?” he asked in a small voice.

            “I’ll call Pygmy as soon as I go downstairs, so he can record it.  But I think I’ll wait and visit your sister tomorrow to explain things, face to face,” Sylph replied calmly.  “Her temper tantrums give me a headache.  I’m glad you finally stood your ground against her, Castiel, when you moved out on your own and she tried to insist you come back.  She certainly made the years she spent raising you difficult, didn’t she?”  She waved a hand in dismissal.  “Your sister will survive the blow, I’m sure.  And I’m leaving her more than enough assets for her to be able to replace whatever she breaks when she goes flying off the handle over this.”

            “Oh, she’ll probably break every dish in her house, knowing Anna,” Cass grumbled.  “She always was fond of the dramatic temper tantrum.”

            Sylph hugged Cass fondly.  “I am very proud of you,” she told him.  “Now, tuck your handsome boyfriend back in and you can give him another kiss.  Then he can rest while you go get those documents and I make some phone calls.  After all, he’ll need his strength, won’t he, to thank you properly later?”  Once more, she burst into giggles.

            Cass sputtered and turned beet red, but Dean was too amused and exhausted to correct her.  Cass meekly tucked him back in.  He was about to turn and leave when Dean caught his wrist once more.  “Hey ‘boyfriend,’ you forgetting something?” he called.  He grinned and winked.

            Cass blushed like a young girl.  But he bent down and gave Dean a quick kiss.  “We’ll talk later, alright?” he said.  “Rest and heal.”

            “You be careful,” Dean urged.

            “I’ll be fine.”  Cass hesitated, and then quickly kissed Dean again.

            Dean smiled, closing his eyes as Cass followed his giggling grandmother out the door.  But he frowned when he heard a key turn in the lock.  So they had really locked him in.  Well, he couldn’t blame them.

            Dean sank into the bed and let his mind drift.  Unsurprisingly, it drifted right to Cass.  A sylph!  Well, that did explain why he was such an airhead.  Dean had never cared enough about other elementals to ask about their powers.  Still, he knew that sylphs were represented by a winged pixie because they were the only elementals capable of flight.  What the hell was Cass doing running around in a Prius?  If Dean was a sylph, he’d just fly everywhere!  But then he remembered The Rules, and how elementals weren’t supposed to flaunt their powers.  Well, that sucked.  What was the point of being able to fly if you couldn’t go buzzing around town like Superman?  But then again, if it was anything like his own fire trail, it took a lot of energy to do.  Not even Adam could maintain his fire trail for long.  They traveled in spurts, and even then, it tired them out fast.  Dean could move relatively quickly using the ability, but using it for any real length of time was like running a marathon.  Maybe flying wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, either?  It made sense.

            Dean drifted off.  He was dimly aware that Cass had gone out, and Sylph was on her second phone call.  He could hear her voice from her office as she spoke on the phone.  While he couldn’t make out the words, she was using that stern grandma voice again.  Whoever she was scolding had best step lively!

****

            Cass filled Dean’s dreams.  The two of them were soaring high in the sky, holding hands with their arms outstretched, laughing happily as they watched the land unfurl beneath them.  But somehow, he could hear an argument.  Somewhere beneath him, a man and a woman were speaking with tense, raised voices, the woman accusing, the man defensive and both becoming increasingly upset.

            “How could you do this, Undine?”

            “I only did what I had to do, for the good of our people!”

            “The good of our people?  What you’ve done is little more than enslavement!”

            “Sylph, we are talking about criminals here.  The dredges of our society!”

            “They are elementals, Undine, our own people!  They’re our friends, our neighbors, our relatives!  Can you name one family in this town that doesn’t have ties to every other?  And this is the real reason why you took that boy to the falls, isn’t it?  Because he knew your dirty little secret!”

            Dean opened his eyes, the dream fading fast.  The Undine was downstairs!  Chief Carson Daly, the man who’d tried to drown him, was right downstairs, and Sylph was arguing with him.  Dean frowned, wondering why he could hear them so clearly.  Then his eyes fell on the grate in the floor near his bed.  Glancing down, he could see into the living room below.  Ah, the ventilation system.

            Dean slid his legs out from under the blankets and sat up.  He waited for the dizziness to pass.  Then he carefully lowered himself to the floor so he could pull his boots back on, not making a sound that might give him away.  The whole time, he kept an ear on the conversation downstairs.

            Sylph’s voice was filled with an odd combination of anger and sadness.  “When I knew I was slipping and that my disease was starting to affect me, I knew that I had a difficult choice in naming who would take the scepter.  Salamander has always been sketchy.  Even before he took over, there were rumors, whispers about him.  But I never in my life thought he could be capable of murder!  And you?  On the surface, you appear an ideal candidate.  A law-abiding citizen, the Chief of Police, even a Little League coach!  But the old Pygmy warned me about you, Undine.  Before she died, she told me that she’d learned something about you, who you really are!  She said you had a secret that she’d made sure to record and store in the elemental records, just in case.  But she hadn’t wanted to cause an uproar by revealing you.  You know how pygmies are about the status quo!  She looked to me to do that, but with my illness just starting, I forgot what she’d told me, forgot how I’d intended to have our new Pygmy search those records and find the truth.  But that boy found them!  And so you chose to take him to the falls, to drown him so he couldn’t ever tell anyone your secret.  You used your position as elder to twist the vote and condemn a young man to death!  Oh Undine, what have you done?  Just what have you done?”

            “Sylph, please try to understand!  You have always been wealthy, and you don’t know what it’s like to have to struggle to make ends meet.  My men are underpaid, understaffed, underequipped…  When Milligan went nuts, most of my men were racing around town, searching for him, because the main switchboard at the station went down again!  Shelton found him mostly by luck.  But he couldn’t call for backup.  That’s why he took Cass with him, because here wasn’t anyone else!  Your grandson never should have needed to get involved in that.  What he did was incredibly brave, but he almost died when Milligan exploded the ammunition in his weapon!  If Blake hadn’t been right there…?”

            “Are you honestly telling me, Undine, that all of the money you’ve siphoned off through the years you’ve been doing this has all been for the police?  That you personally never benefitted?  That’s a brand new car you have parked in my driveway!  And where did the money for your vacations and the renovations for your home come from?”

            “Alright, I’ll confess that I did have some personal gain, but my undines…”

            “Do they know?  Do they really understand just what it is their leader has done?”  She sighed.  “You leave me no choice.  The scepter of the Lead Elder will pass to Pygmy…”

            “No!”

            “…And the undines and salamanders will be told the truth.”  Sylph’s voice was steel.  “They can decide for themselves if they wish to keep their current elders, or have them censored.  But this, all of this, will be brought to light.”

            “No.”  The Undine’s voice was deathly silent now.  “No, I don’t think so.”

            Then Dean heard the sound of a blow, and suddenly he saw Sylph, sprawled on the floor.  He watched, stunned, as the Undine appeared through the grate, gathering up the still figure of the old woman and carrying her out of Dean’s sight.  Dean froze, not sure what to do.  Calling the cops would likely just bring more undines.  No, Dean would have to wait, stay hidden, and keep quiet until the Undine left.

            But then smoke began to rise through the vent next to Dean.  It tickled his already-inflamed airways, and Dean coughed harshly.  A fire?  What could be…?

            Then Dean smelled burning flesh, and he understood.  Horrified, he realized he could hear the sound of footsteps on the stairs.  The Undine was coming up, investigating the sound of Dean’s cough.  Dean got up, clinging to the dresser as dizziness washed over him.  He quickly opened the window and shoved out the screen.  Behind him, he heard the doorknob rattle as the Undine tried the locked door.  Dean sent out his fire trail, sending it down the side of the building, and a moment later, he was standing outside.

            Behind him, an ominous glow came from the window.  Dean glanced in, saw what could only be a slumped body among the flames.  And then he saw Chief Carson Daly racing down the stairs.  For a moment, their eyes met through the window.  Then Daly’s lips curled back in a snarl.  “Winchester!”

            “Oh, _fuck!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun's jaw hit the floor when he understood that Cass was now Sylph. Said that was an awesome development! Groaned as usual about the mush, but laughed very hard and did this singsong "She saw him kissing Deeaaaaaan!" when Esther started giggling. Loved how Esther can cow Dean and said he's still mad at the author about what happened to her.


	43. A Dance of Wind and Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean continues his tale, filling Blake and Adam in on what happened at Esther Novak's home

            “Dude!” Adam complained, startling Dean.  “Don’t leave us hanging, dickhead!  I’m on the edge of my seat here!”

            Dean blinked, coming back to himself.  For a moment, he’d been back at the house with the Undine, absolutely certain he was about to die.  “Why?” he grumbled, trying to regain his composure.  “You know what happened!  Cass came back and saved my ass!  Again!  He’s like my own personal fucking superhero, you know?  He’s just got a trench coat instead of a cape.  Hell, he even flies!”

            “It’s ok, I’ll tell you,” Cass sighed.  “I’d been out to the courthouse, and didn’t find the records.  So I was on my way back when it happened.  Almost wrecked my car when I suddenly got hit with it, the full elemental power.  I knew that Grandma had died.  And somehow, I didn’t think she’d just died of natural causes!  So I pulled over and flew back, and…”

            “Dude, I’m telling it!” Dean protested.  “Would you just let me tell it?”

            “You left quite a bit out of the telling,” Cass said, giving Dean a knowing look.  Then he looked away and frowned.  “Adam, do not smoke in my house.”

            Adam cocked an eyebrow.  He looked meaningfully around at the smoke damage.  “Really?  I think it’s a bit late for that, buddy.”  He popped a cigarette into his mouth and instinctively brought his fingers up to the end.  Then he scowled, noting that he was still wearing the salamander cuffs.  He held his cigarette towards Dean.  “Dean, gimme a light?”

            “Cass said no,” Dean announced, snagging the cigarette and tossing it over his shoulder into the living room.

            “Dammit, Dean, don’t throw shit all over!” Blake ordered.  “Go pick that up and throw it away properly.”

            Dean rolled his eyes and went for the cigarette.  “Anyway, I didn’t leave out any of the good stuff.”

            “So, the stuff you left out wasn’t good?”  Cass’s blue eyes looked like they would belong in a starving puppy.

            “No!  I mean, yes, it was good, but it’s not important!  I mean, gah, can I just go back to the story?”

            “You’re the one who stopped talking, Dean.  Thank you, Blake, wow, that feels good!”

            “You’re welcome,” Blake said.  He’d just taken the cuffs off of Adam.  “Don’t finish the job of burning down the house.”

            “Not worried about it now Dean’s here.”

            “I can help him.”  Dean frowned.  “Where was I?”

            “Getting spotted by the Undine, shitting yourself, and then running with your sack retracted clear up into your belly button,” Adam supplied.

            “Thank you.”  Dean cheerfully gave Adam the finger.  “Let’s see how tough you are when you face that motherfucker, bitch.  Back to the story!”

****

            Dean ran, knowing it was useless.  He didn’t have the strength in his exhausted body to create another fire trail, and even if he had, the monster chasing him could put it out easily.  Dean coughed, stumbled, spat, and tried again to run.  His head was spinning, and using his fire trail had only made it worse.  He stumbled again, nearly fell.  And then the Undine was on him, and he went down.

            Dean fought with all of his flagging strength.  The two rolled on the ground, coming to rest against a thorny hedge.  And there, Carson pinned him.  “No!” Dean screamed.  “Get off me!”

            “I don’t think so.”

            The Undine’s body had been covered with a protective coating of water, shielding him against any fire Dean might generate.  But now his body was gone, replaced with a shifting, man-shaped figure made of living water.  The waterman pulled his hands up above his head, trapped them with one hand, and placed his other over Dean’s mouth and nose.  Dean felt his last hopes die as water began to force its way into his airway.  The Undine had no need to take him to the falls.  He could drown Dean right here, and it appeared that he fully intended to do exactly that.  Dean coughed and thrashed, desperate to keep the water from filling his lungs.

            He was only vaguely aware of a sudden change in the wind.  But then the wind came at him like a hurricane, churning the water into froth.

            Suddenly, Dean was free to breathe again.  Coughing, he looked up.  Something that looked like a miniature waterspout spun and churned near him, a furious mixture of wind and water that clashed and then finally drew apart.  The Undine stood, facing off with…  Nothing.  But then Dean saw it, bits of dust and debris that danced about, vaguely outlining a figure made up of swirling wind.

            _Cass!_

            “This doesn’t concern you, Anna,” the Undine called.

            “Hey, ass butt!” Cass’s familiar gravely voice snapped.  “I’m not Anna, but I’m definitely concerned!”

            Cass charged forward, and once more, the waterspout formed.  Dean got to his feet, wanting to help but not sure how.  And a moment later, the two once again separated.

            This time, the Undine returned to his human form.  He panted as he warily faced the telltale bits caught in the winds.  “Cass?” he said.  “This is a stalemate.  We can’t beat each other.  Talk to me?”

            Cass materialized.  His cheeks were streaked with tears as he looked at Dean.  “You alright?”

            “I am now.”  Dean wearily got to his feet, moving closer to Cass.  “That’s two I owe you, buddy.”

            Cass’s eyes returned to Carson and narrowed.  “Did you do this?” he demanded.  “Did you kill my grandmother?  How could you, Carson?”  Cass clenched his fists.  “And then, when I got here, you were trying to drown Dean, again!  What the hell do you think we have to talk about?!”

            Carson held up a hand.  “There’s a lot of things you don’t understand.  But don’t worry, I can explain later.  What’s important is that you’re Sylph now, Cass.  You’re an elder!  We can work together, just like we always have.  I’d already planned to choose Blake as my successor, and then I’ll have both my angels at my side.  We can do great things, the three of us!  Once I win this election and become Lead Elder…”

            “Dude, you are seriously out of your mind!” Dean announced.  He moved closer to Cass, secretly delighting in the way the detective instinctively held out an arm to shield him.  Dean reached out and took Cass’s shoulder.  “He just murdered your grandmother, Cass.  I was upstairs, and I heard everything they said!  Grandma Esther confronted him about what I found in the safe, and he hit her!  I saw her fall through the grate, saw him pick her up, and then the son of a bitch set her on fire!”

            “Cass, your grandmother was just murdered by the salamander you’re preventing me from bringing to justice, _again!_   Help me arrest him, detective.  We’ll…”

            Dean rolled his eyes.  “Hey dumbass, Cass knows, alright?  I told him _and_ Sylph about your extracurricular activities!”

            “I know everything, Carson,” Cass agreed.

            “I see.”  Carson shook his head.  “Cass, we can work this out.”

            “I don’t think so!  Carson Daly, you are under arrest for the murder of Esther Novak.  You have the right…”

            The more-experienced elder shifted back into water before Cass could react, charging not at Cass, but at Dean.  Dean fell back, crushing the hedge before he was thrown to the ground.  Once again, he was underwater on dry land.  Cass immediately shifted forms, but Carson was back in human form and the water was gone once more.  He was sitting on Dean, one hand loosely covering Dean’s nose and mouth, the other held up towards Cass.  “We can’t beat each other, Cass,” Carson called.  “We’re too evenly matched.  But I can certainly kill this salamander!  Stand down, or I’ll fill his lungs with water!”

            “I’ll just blow it back out!”

            Carson laughed.  “You don’t have the control, Cass!  No sylph could manage that, not even your grandmother!  You’d blow his lungs out if you tried.  You’re powerful, Cass, but sylphs have the least amount of control over the winds they can generate.  You had to breathe for him at the falls, didn’t you?  And this is no different!  Your powers do not work that way!  Now stand down!”

            Dean lay still, wary of the Undine’s power.  Cass once again took on his human form.  His face was flushed, and he was again clenching his fists.  “I don’t need my powers to kick your ass, Carson!  Get off of him.  Now!”

            Uncertainty flickered across Carson’s features for a moment, and Dean wanted to cheer.  But when he spoke, Carson’s voice was calm.  “Here is what’s going to happen.  Cass, you and I are going to arrest this salamander for the murder of Esther Novak.  I will recommend he be taken to the falls immediately, and you will second it.  Now wait, don’t get excited!  You’ll excuse yourself, which would be understandable considering the circumstances.  And I’ll take him to the falls.”

            “Where you’ll kill him anyway?  Why the hell would I agree to that, Carson?”

            “Because someone’s got to take the fall for this, and he’s the logical choice.  No one will believe a rogue salamander with a long history of criminal activity saying that the chief of police murdered an old woman, but it won’t matter.  He’s not getting a chance to talk to anyone.  I’ll take him to the falls, and drown him quickly.  After that, it’s up to you, Cass.  You can come back, take your place in the Council of Elders, and live in peace.  Or you can step down, ask me to censor you and live as a normal human.  You could take your inheritance and live on a beach somewhere, surrounded by boys as pretty or prettier than this one!  All you have to do is keep quiet.”

            “I will _not_ let you drown Dean!  Final warning, Carson.  Get off of him!”

            “Cass?  He has to die.  But anyone else dying with him?  That is your choice.  Because if you really know about me, then you know what I’m capable of!  If you come after me now, or you try to double-cross me later?”  His lips curled into a smile that didn’t meet his eyes.  “I will destroy you, Castiel Novak.  But not before I destroy everyone you love.  I’ll tear your entire life apart and leave you with nothing!  So you decide.  Is this one cute freckle-faced salamander worth losing everyone and everything that you’ve ever cared about?”

            The answer was no.  Of course the answer was no.  Dean knew there could be no other answer even as he saw Cass’s face fall, saw his shoulders slump in defeat.  Dean couldn’t blame him.

            Carson nodded, watching Cass’s resolve crumble.  “You’ve made the right choice.  I really do respect and admire you, Cass.  You’re remarkable, both as a sylph and as a detective, and I’m glad I got to know you.  In time, I hope we can even be friends again.  But right now, you need to let me do what I have to do.”  He paused, looking down at Dean, who had started struggling again.  “Do you happen to have those salamander cuffs?”

            Cass meekly handed them over.

            Dean understood, but he didn’t want to die.  He fought, getting a few satisfying blows in before Cass came over to help pin him down.  When the cuffs went on, locking his hands behind his back, Dean knew it was over.  But he still fought, straining and kicking at Carson as he was dragged to his feet.  “You’ll get yours,” he vowed.  “You can kill me, but salamanders stick together, asshole, and you’ll get what’s coming to you!”

            “I’m sure.”  Carson reached for Dean, who cringed away.

            “Can I ask for one favor?” Cass asked.  When Carson looked at him, Cass’s eyes went to Dean and grew cold.  “I’d like a moment alone with him.”

            “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Cass,” Carson warned.  “You still seem pretty attached to him.  Frankly I don’t know that I can really trust you.  What do you want him for?”

            Cass absently pulled his trench coat free from the hedge, scowling as it tore.  “I still haven’t spoken with him about that business after we arrested him and Levine.  This is the last chance I’ve got, and I’ve got something to say to him.”

            Carson considered this.  “I’ll step away a bit, but I’m not leaving.  Sorry, buddy, but I cannot take chances here.  And watch him!  He’s tricky.”

            “No one knows that better than I do.”  Taking Dean by the arm, Cass waited as Carson stepped away.

            Dean had stopped struggling once Cass took hold of him.  He didn’t have the heart to fight Cass, and only stood as he was, slumped and staring at the ground.  “In case it matters, I get why you’re doing this,” he said, miserable.  “And I’m sorry I hurt you back at the station.  It was a dick thing to do, to play with your emotions like that.”

            “Yes, it was.  And it does matter.  I appreciate it.”

            “I also wanted to say thank you.  For saving me at the falls, and for trying to save me here.  I’m sorry, Cass.  I’m not the kind of guy that someone like you can have a relationship with.  Even now, I can’t pretend I am.  But if I was, and things were different?”  He swallowed.  “I wish we could have been together.  We had something good, didn’t we?”

            “Yeah.  We did.”  Cass’s arms slipped around Dean’s middle and drew tight, pulling him close.

            Dean squirmed.  “Ok, stop.  Seriously, Cass, take your hands off of me, ok?  You’re killing me, and I get that.  But you don’t get to grope me!”

            “Dean?” Cass replied quietly.  “Shut the fuck up.”

            And then suddenly Dean’s feet were off the ground.

****

            “I learned something then,” Dean said.  “Flying sucks!  I’m not afraid of heights, and I wasn’t worried Cass would drop me…”

            “You should have been!” Cass grumbled.  “Obviously, I can carry you, but my ability to fly doesn’t make you weightless!  My back is going to hurt for days!”

            “It’s all those cheeseburgers and pies, Dean,” Adam offered.  “Diet time, buddy!”

            “Shut your dick trap, Adam,” Dean said.  “Anyway, none of that was what bothered me, ok, Blake?  The problem was that I was dangling in Cass’s arms, and I was completely and utterly helpless!  There I was, literally at the mercy of the winds, and we’re rising higher and higher while Daly’s down there cursing and screaming and spitting threats like the asshole he is.  And you know, I almost wished I was back down there with him!”

            Blake was distracted.  “Cass, did you seriously call Carson ‘ass butt?’  Seriously?”

            “…No?”  Cass’s eyes shifted.

            “He seriously did, and now that it’s over, that’s fucking hilarious!” Dean laughed.  “But at the time, I was too terrified to think about it much.  And then he flew with me, and I was definitely not in a laughing mood.”

            Adam rolled his eyes.  “C’mon, Dean, it couldn’t have been that bad!”

            “It’s not,” Blake assured.  “I dated a sylph and she flew with me.  It’s a little disconcerting, and yeah, the loss of control is a bit intimidating.  But it’s only terrifying if you happen to have trust issues, Dean.”

            “Don’t listen to him,” Dean ordered.  “I assure you, it was that bad!  But I managed to put up with it until Cass somehow managed to wedge us both up under the eaves of one of the upstairs windows.  Then I thought it would be over, you know?  He’d let me go and as soon as dickhead left, I could use my fire trail to get back down.  And that was about the time that our favorite hot but scatterbrained sylph detective went for the keys to free me and realized that when he’d torn his coat on that hedge, he’d also torn a hole in the pocket and the key was gone!  So there I was, squeezed in up under the eaves with him holding onto me to keep me from falling and my hands still locked behind my back with no way to get loose!  Then Carson assumed Cass had flown off with me and called in the fire brigade.  Cass had to fly us again to get us down to that awning.  And that’s where I stayed.  For hours!  Lying invisible on that damned fancy awning with my hands still locked behind my back, coughing into Cass’s hand as quietly as I could while people swarmed all over the place.  And that,” Dean finished, “was when I decided that I never, ever want to fly ever again!”

            “I said I was sorry I lost the key,” Cass grumbled.  “Next time you can just lie there and let him drown you if you’re going to get all pissy about it.”

            “Yeah, ass butt!” Blake added.

            Dean ignored Blake, but he smiled at Cass.  “Cass pops an attitude!  Someone stop the presses!”

            “Can we stop your mouth instead?” Adam asked.  “What the hell did you find in those records that was so important Daly murdered the Lead Elder for it?”

            “A lot.”  Dean’s expression was serious once more.  “Adam, Crowley’s been lying to us.  He’s not the King of Hell.  All he is, all he’s ever been, is Lucifer’s bitch!  Lucifer’s got him like a dog on a chain because he knows what he did.  See, when the old Salamander was choosing his successor, he didn’t pick Crowley.  Crowley wasn’t the most powerful, so Salamander passed him over and chose someone else.  And that someone, the most powerful of the salamanders at the time, was Roman Levine.”

            Adam blinked.  “Dad?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun really liked Cass facing off with Carson


	44. Lucifer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean continues his tale, explaining to Blake and Adam what it was he'd found in the safe

            Adam could barely remember his father.  Mostly it was images, dark hair and hazel eyes looking down at him.  He couldn’t recall his father’s voice, but he remembered his hands.  Those hands had picked him up when he was very small, swung him up and placed him onto his father’s broad shoulders.  Adam would laugh, his tiny fists clutching his father’s dark hair while his mother smiled.  But that was all.  Roman Levine hadn’t been home much, and his visits were usually short and ended with his parents screaming at each other and his mother crying.  Adam didn’t even have any pictures of his father.  The only reason he’d known that he’d inherited his father’s looks was his mother’s terrified reaction to him when he’d gone to see her in the nursing home.  He remembered the funeral, his father lying in the big shiny black box and his mother sobbing, telling Adam that he was the man of the house now and the two of them would find a way to face whatever came.

            Then John Winchester had come, and had taken him away.

            Dean had stepped closer, putting an arm around Adam’s shoulders.  “Roman Levine was Salamander’s natural successor,” Dean was saying.  “From what the records say, he wasn’t quite as powerful as Adam is now, but he was close.  Crowley was only a distant second.  Apparently, he didn’t care for that.  There’s no direct line of evidence that links Crowley and Roman together, but the circumstances are all there.  Crowley was in the same town as Roman the day he was murdered, on business for Lucifer.  Crowley had the means, the motive, and the opportunity.  Most of all, he knew exactly how to kill salamander.  If I was the jury, I’d convict him in a heartbeat.  Fergus Crowley killed him, Adam, stabbed him and then threw him into the water to drown.  He murdered your father so he could become Salamander!”

            Adam grew still.  Crowley was one of the most power-hungry people Adam had ever known.  Could he really murder another salamander?  Yes, Adam decided.  He could.  And he had.  He’d murdered Roman Levine, and had started the chain of events that had eventually destroyed Adam’s life.  Still, something didn’t make sense.  “Wait a minute,” he said.  “Dad was still alive when John found him.  So why wouldn’t he have warned John about Crowley?  Instead, he just told John to take me!  His last words…”

            “…Were a lie, Adam.”  Dean’s cheeks flushed, and his shoulders slumped.  “I know dad was anything but Father Of The Year.  But I’d always believed he and Roman were as close as you and I are now.  I believed that dad tried to save him, got him out before he drowned but was too late to keep him from bleeding to death.  I wanted, needed, to believe that there was at least that much good in him.  So when I saw what was in the salamander records and realized what it meant, I tried to deny it.  See, because it was the murder of an elemental, the old Salamander investigated it and put all of his findings into the records.  Roman Levine was stabbed, tied to a cinder block, and then dumped into the water.  He fought his murderer, and then kept fighting until he somehow got out of the water and bled out on the shore.  But he did that alone, Adam.  Because dad wasn’t there.”  His eyes squeezed shut.  When they opened, he couldn’t meet Adam’s eyes.  “Dad couldn’t have been there, Adam.  Because he was in jail, fifty miles from where your father died.  He’d been arrested the night before for public drunkenness!  While Roman Levine was taking his last breath, my dad was still sleeping it off in the drunk tank.  Crowley didn’t get him out until well past noon, and Roman was dead before sunrise.  There’s no way he ever could have told dad to take you, Adam, because dad wasn’t anywhere near him!”

            “Then why?” Adam cried.  “Why the hell did he take me away?  He always said it was because my dad asked him to, that it was his dying request.  But if that’s not true, why did he take me?”

            “I don’t know,” Dean admitted.  “But I think I can figure it out.  Roman was the most powerful salamander, and you were his firstborn son.  It was obvious that you’d inherit his power.  And if that was the case, you also stood a better than average chance of being as powerful as he was, too!  Dad got lucky with how powerful you turned out to be, Adam.  Because the real reason that I believe dad took you?  He knew that you’d be the one to succeed Crowley.”

            Adam stared at him.  “I don’t understand.”

            “He used you, Adam!  He knew that the day would come when Crowley would need you, when he’d have to have a successor because Crowley would never be satisfied with just being an elder.  His eyes were always on the prize, and that prize was the scepter of the Lead Elder!  But to get it, he had to have a successor, and that successor needed to be the most powerful salamander.  He would need you, Adam.  And that meant you were leverage that dad could use against Crowley.  He kidnapped you and kept you with me so that I’d be the one you turned to when you needed help to control your powers, just like Roman turned to him!  And it worked like a charm.  He had you, and he raised the two of us to be completely dependent on each other so that we’d never leave each others’ side, and that was dad’s ace in the hole.  As long as he had you, Crowley couldn’t touch him!”

            “But I think, in the end, dad put it together,” Dean continued.  “He never did get over missing out on his chance to be the power behind the throne.  Remember how he’d go on a crying jag and sob about how it wasn’t fair that Roman had been taken from him and now he’d never have a chance to be anything more than a hired thug?”

            “I hated that,” Adam recalled.  “He’d get plastered, start sobbing and then drag us over and pull us into his lap.  Then he’d cry all over us, going on and on about how we needed to carry on in their place!”

            “I know you hated it, but I loved it,” Dean confessed.  “When he’d do that, hold us both so close like he did?  It made me feel like dad really loved me, and had these great plans for me.  He was my father, Adam.  No matter what he did.  And in the end, he finally crawled out of the bottle long enough to take a long, hard look at what really happened to Roman.  After Adam Milligan died, he went back to Elemental Falls one more time, remember?  He hid us in the woods outside of town and went in.  Said he needed to look at some records.  And when he came back, he didn’t say a word.  Just ordered us back into Baby and took off.  We got out of town, went to a motel, and he insisted that we stay inside.  He wouldn’t let us out for days while he skulked around, not telling us what he was doing.  And then a few days later, he vanished.”

            “And the next day, he was dead,” Adam recalled.  “You think he went back and looked at those records, realized that Crowley killed my dad?”

            “Yeah, Adam, I do.  And knowing dad, he probably confronted Crowley about it.  You know how quick he always was to get into a fight over the slightest provocation!  So he went and got in Crowley’s face over Roman.  But by then, Crowley was already Salamander.  Crowley wouldn’t have even had to lift a finger if he didn’t want to.  If dad took a swing, the other salamanders would have dragged him straight to the falls!  But he couldn’t take the chance that dad might tell them his secret.  So I think that’s why he ended up where he did, Adam.  Crowley lured him out, offered to talk with him about Roman.  And when dad showed up, Crowley murdered him, too.”

            “That son of a bitch,” Blake breathed.  “He killed both of your fathers!”

            Dean nodded.  “Since it was the murder of another salamander, as Salamander Crowley had to investigate.  It’s funny, how Crowley actually ended up documenting all the evidence on himself!  And they match.  My dad died the same was as Adam’s, stabbed, tied to a heavy object, and then thrown into the water to drown.  The lead detective on that case actually believed they were committed by the same person and questioned Crowley, because he’d been a person of interest from the first murder.  There’s no doubt in my mind.  Crowley killed them both!”

            For some reason, Dean’s voice sounded strained.  Adam glanced at him, saw the effort visible in Dean’s face, and realized that they both were covered in flames.  Startled, he looked over at Blake.  The big man hadn’t brought up his water shield, but he was standing protectively in front of Cass, gently pushing the sylph back.  Cass’s eyes were fixed on Dean and full of concern.

            Of course.  As usual, Adam was losing control of his powerful fire as his emotions spiked.  And Dean was controlling and directing that fire as flames that danced harmlessly over the two salamanders.  Adam quickly closed his eyes and focused, regaining control of his emotions and his powers, and the flames died down.  “Sorry,” he called.  “Especially you, Cass.  If you want, I’ll put those cuffs back on?”

            “I think I understand,” Cass replied.  “And it’s alright.  If Dean can help you, let him help you.  You didn’t even scorch the floor.”

            Adam clutched at Dean’s arm.  “You got me?”

            “Don’t I always?”

            “Yeah.  You do.”  He took a deep breath, increasing his focus.  “Alright.  Crowley murdered both of our fathers to keep his position as Salamander, and John took me because he knew Crowley would need me as his successor.  I get those two.  But what about Carson?  This is information that could only help him, so what’s his part in all this?”

            “It’s all about Lucifer,” Dean explained.  “Crowley split off from Lucifer shortly after Roman died.  And shortly after that, Salamander died.  Honestly, I have my questions about that.”

            “I remember that,” Blake called.  “It was just after I moved into town and started working.  But didn’t he die of a heart attack?”

            “That’s what the official report said,” Dean confirmed.  “His death was ruled due to natural causes and the case was closed.  Crowley became the new Salamander.  Then a couple weeks later, the Undine died as well, car accident, and Daly stepped in.  But see, all of that gets pretty weird when you take a close look at what happened.  First of all, the old Salamander was only in his early fifties, and healthy.  So how did he die of a heart attack?  Plus, he died while swimming.  But the temperature on the day he died was only in the sixties!  So why would he have been swimming?  It’s all in the medical examiner’s report, which Crowley had to file with the salamander records.  The M.E. obviously thought the entire thing was fishy.  The final ruling, what went on that official report, was that death was instantaneous due to a massive heart attack.  But that makes no sense when you look at the rest of the findings, especially the fact that there was water in his lungs.  If he died instantly, why would there be water in his lungs?”

            “He drowned,” Blake realized.

            “Someone drowned him,” Cass corrected.  “And once he was out of the way, Crowley was the new Salamander.  Then the old Undine’s death happened due to a car accident…”

            “…But the medical examiner, the same one that did Salamander’s autopsy, said flat-out in his report that the injuries on his body weren’t consistent with those suffered in a car accident!” Dean finished.  “The guy was high as a kite at the time of death, too.  But the reports said that he didn’t do drugs!”

            “He didn’t,” Blake confirmed.  “The guy was a pediatrician who worked his ass off to try to keep drugs out of Elemental Falls.  You think Crowley drugged and murdered him, too?”

            “I think he supplied the drugs, probably was in on staging that accident,” Dean confirmed.  “But I think the real credit for that murder goes to the one person who benefitted the most.  Because Undine was only thirty-six and he hadn’t chosen a successor.  So it came down to a vote among the undines to choose their new elder.  Carson Daly went door to door and campaigned for the position, convinced the undines that he knew what was best for the town.  Sound familiar?”

            “Yeah.  I voted for him,” Blake confessed.  “I was still pretty new in town at the time, and he was not only my co-worker, but also one of the few friends I had.  I went door to door for him myself!  There were a couple of other people interested, but Carson was honestly the only real choice.  He was such a pillar of the community, you know?  Of course I supported him.  We all did!  He won by a landslide.”

            “I still don’t get what this has to do with Lucifer,” Adam complained.  “And I don’t get why Crowley would help Daly become Undine.”

            “Same reason for both,” Dean explained.  “And I figured it out when I looked through the undine records and referenced them with the salamander records.  Daly became Chief of Police after the old one was shot and killed in the line of duty.  Crowley represented the perpetrator, a salamander.  Crowley’s drugs were found in the Undine’s body.  Crowley’s been behind the events that got Carson to where he’s at all along.  But it goes the other way, too!  When Crowley was questioned about my dad’s murder, Carson Daly was the lead detective.  He’s the one who officially cleared Crowley as a suspect.  And he was the only one who could have buried the M.E.’s findings about the old Salamander and Undine.  Crowley and Carson have been helping each other!”

            “But they hate each other!”

            “Exactly!  But I wasn’t the first person who realized there was a link.  The old Pygmy looked into things, too.  She’s the one who put most of this together.  The answer to the confusion in the salamander and undine records was in the pygmy records, and the only reason I even thought to look was because she was Secretary.  I looked at her notes for the timeframes involved, and realized that she had far more notes than just for the Council of Elders.  Adam, it was all there.  They’re partners, but the partnership isn’t even.  Carson was already a detective, so he’s the one who helped the old Salamander investigate when Roman Levine died.  He realized that Crowley murdered Roman.  But instead of reporting it to Salamander, he used that knowledge to blackmail him.  And he could do it easily because Carson’s been involved in crime for years!  He’s got a sealed juvenile record that Pygmy was able to get a copy of, and that was where the answer was.”  Dean tightened his grip on Adam and seemed to brace.  “Blake, Carson Daly isn’t Carson Daly.  Just before he got out of juvie, his father died.  So he had his mother legally change their names, and he started a whole new life under a new identity.  That’s the man you know.  But he’s got a whole other life!  Daly’s real name is Nicholas Morningstar.  His mother was a native of Elemental Falls.  She wasn’t an elemental, but she still passed him the elemental genes and that’s how he got his power.  But his father?  His father was a known crime lord!  Carson’s the heir to an entire crime syndicate with interests all over the country.  Portland, Omaha, Ohio…”

            “Wait,” Blake called.  “Those are all places you two have hit!  But you were working for Crowley!  What’s the connection?”

            “The connection was their partnership, Blake,” Cass explained.  “The boys and the other salamanders in Crowley’s group were never really working for Crowley.  They were all working for Daly!”

            “After Crowley murdered Roman Levine, he split off from Lucifer and the salamanders with him followed him,” Dean said.  “But it was all just an act!  The things that Crowley’s been doing with us after we went with him?  Those were things that needed to be kept separate from Daly.  Daly’s been using him, using all of us, to do his dirty work for him.  Carson Daly looks squeaky clean because he uses _us_ to clean up his messes!  And he’s got one hell of a lot of messes, gentlemen.  Because Carson Daly is Lucifer.”

            Adam knew the flames were back, but this time, his concern was less for himself than for Blake.  The big man’s face, already pale as he learned more and more about the man he’d once followed and admired, now went grey.  He swayed on his feet.  Cass quickly ducked under his arm, and Blake clung to the smaller detective.  “No,” he moaned.  “No, Dean, that can’t be true!”

            “I’m sorry, Blake, but it is.  Carson Daly is Lucifer.  That’s why the FBI could never catch him, and why you could never pin anything we did for him on Crowley.  Daly was right there in the police station, overseeing all of your investigations, and making sure to warn us any time you got too close!”

            “That’s why they always seemed one step ahead of us, Blake,” Cass said gently.  He held tight to his partner.  “Every time we got close, Carson would tip them off.  And it’s only going to get worse!  He’s been pulling the strings on the salamanders all this time, and if he becomes Lead Elder?  He’ll be pulling the strings of every elemental in town!”

            “Then why is he even letting Crowley run?” Blake wanted to know.  His blue eyes were flickering, as if searching desperately for an escape.

            “Even if Crowley wins, he’s got too much to lose,” Cass explained.  “Carson can control things from behind the throne, too.  Crowley probably thinks he can get out from under Carson’s thumb if he becomes Lead Elder, and I imagine that’s why he’s fighting so hard to win this election.  But the truth is, he’s trapped.  Carson holds all the cards.  We both know how big Lucifer’s organization is.  The only one who had any chance at keeping him in line was Sylph.  But now she’s gone, and the scepter has to pass to either Carson or Crowley…”

            “Why?” Dean challenged.  “Why can’t it pass to you, Cass?  You’re an elder now, too!  You could clean up this whole town!”

            But Cass, Blake, and Adam were all shaking their heads.  “I’m too inexperienced,” Cass explained.  “Under extraordinary circumstances, I could take the scepter, but to do that, the other elders would all have to be unable or unfit to take it themselves.  It’s got to go to Carson or Crowley.”

            “No,” Adam called.  “It doesn’t.  There’s another elder involved here.  What about Pygmy?”

            This was met by a set of matching eye rolls from the two detectives.  “What about him?” Cass grumbled.  “He’s a pygmy!  Didn’t you figure it out when Dean told you that the old Pygmy had put everything together and all she did was write it in the pygmy records?  The only thing they care about is that everything stays peaceful and quiet.  Status quo!  They won’t cause a fuss, not even over something like this!”

            “If you haven’t noticed, there probably isn’t anything around that irritates a sylph more than a pygmy,” Blake said.  He’d finally started to regain some color in his cheeks, which made Adam glad.  “It’s more than just that their elements clash, too.  Sylphs are free spirits and thinkers who like to experiment and find out what’s over the next hill, while pygmies are exactly the opposite.  They’re the most stubborn, resistant to change people that ever lived!  Hell, I’m amazed they finally decided to admit that the world was round and moved around the sun instead of the other way around.”

            “I think some of them are still in denial,” Cass grumbled.

            “Bottom line is, going to Pygmy would likely end up with another note in the records and nothing else,” Blake sighed.  “Honestly, I don’t know what the hell to do.  I’m just glad y’all aren’t…”  He paused, seeing that every eye had once again turned to him.  “For fuck’s sake!  Cass is the elder here, so why are you still looking at me?”

            “You’re the leader, Blake,” Adam declared.  “You always have been and you always will be.”

            “It’s true,” Cass agreed.  “I may hold the highest rank, but I’ve always followed you, partner.”

            “Yeah, well, I’ve got no idea what the fuck to do,” Blake grumbled.  “So for now, you can all follow me as I sit my ass down on the front porch and deal with all this shit y’all just dumped on me.”  Turning, the big man stormed out, slamming the door roughly behind him.

            “What’s up his ass?” Dean wanted to know.

            “Blake’s been Carson’s right-hand man for years,” Cass explained.  “I may be his best friend, but Carson’s always been Blake’s role model.”

            “He picked a hell of a guy, didn’t he?”

            “And that’s the problem, douche bag!” Adam snapped.  “Blake’s an undine!  They’re not as inflexible as pygmies, but it’s a hell of a blow for him, trying to adjust to the idea that the man he respected and admired has been behind all of the shit that he’s fought against his whole life!  Back off and give him some time!”

            Dean stared at him.  “Holy shit, calm down, would you?”

            “Just lay off of Blake!”

            “Ok, Captain Protective!  Geez, what the hell did he do to you while I was gone?”  Not waiting for or expecting an answer, Dean turned to Cass.  “What are you going to do?”

            “Mourn,” Cass replied.  “And plan my grandmother’s funeral.”

            Dean and Adam winced.  “Dude, I’m sorry.  I didn’t even think…”

            Cass waved his hand.  “It hurts, I won’t lie.  It hurts bad.  Grandma was my only real family outside of Anna, and she was the only one who got me after I lost my parents.  But I don’t have time to wallow in self pity right now.  To be honest, I don’t even have time to mourn or plan the funeral.  Grandma probably arranged it and pre-paid anyway, knowing her.  What I really need to do is go into her office and go through her records.  I’m Sylph now.  I need to figure out what the hell that means.”

            “Why?” Dean asked.  “Why not just pass the power on to someone else and take off?  You’re still a wanted man, Cass!  Priority one should be getting the hell out of town!”

            “He can’t,” Adam said bluntly.  “He’s an elder, a pure elemental spirit.  He can’t leave this town, not for long.  He needs to be close to the elemental plane or he’ll end up withering away and dying.”

            “Dying?!”  Dean’s eyes were suddenly huge as he looked at Cass.

            “It’s alright,” Cass said with a sigh.  “I’m reasonably certain that the first thing Carson will do when he takes the scepter is to censor me.”

            “The scepter of the Lead Elder,” Adam explained, seeing Dean’s confused expression.  “It takes at least three elders to use it, the Lead Elder and two to support.  But it can be used to bind the elemental spirit inside of any of us.  That’s why it’s so powerful, and why Carson can’t get his hands on it.  It can bind Cass’s powers just as surely as those damned handcuffs, only this time, it will be permanent.  And once Cass can’t access his powers to take the true elemental form of an elder, the power of Sylph will pass to someone else.”

            “That’s precisely what Grandma wanted to do, to be censored so that I’d become Sylph.  But of course, that didn’t happen.  Now Carson will censor me the first chance he gets.  And then he’ll take me to the stake,” Cass said calmly.  “Once he destroys me, he’ll arrange for a new Sylph to take my place, one he believes he can control.  And then it’s business as usual.”

            “So you can’t run,” Dean said, “but if you stay, you’ll be bound and then burned?”

            “Most likely.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I really do have my work cut out for me.  In the unlikely event that I do survive this, I’m still Sylph.  I need to learn what that means.”  Without another word, Cass turned and walked out, heading for his grandmother’s study.

            Adam watched his friend carefully.  Dean’s green eyes were still fixed on the door where Cass had gone out.  “He really means something to you, doesn’t he, Dean?” he asked softly.

            Dean seemed to startle.  The green eyes widened, staring at Adam before quickly shifting away.  “He saved my life twice.  I owe him.  Plus he’s a decent guy.  He doesn’t deserve this shit, ok?  Blake needs to get his head back together and figure out what we’re going to do, because I’ll burn down this whole fucking town before I let Cass go to the stake!”

            Adam didn’t miss the emotion in Dean’s voice.  “It’s more than that and you know it,” he accused.  “You really do like him!”

            “He’s hot as fuck, dude, and he saved my life twice!  Of course I’m attracted to him.  Now, since you seem to suddenly be the expert on all things elemental, tell me this – if Crowley makes you his successor, are you trapped in this godforsaken town, too?”

            “I’d have to stay near it, at least,” Adam confirmed.  “Once the power of an elder passed into me, I couldn’t stay out of it long.”

            “There’s got to be other places in the world where the barrier’s thin between this plane and the elemental plane!” Dean protested.  “Someplace I can take you where you’d be ok.”

            “Probably.  Know any?”

            Dean said something blasphemous.  “Ok, I’m seriously over this whole elemental thing!”

            “You and me both, dude.  You and me both!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun says he called it, that Crowley and Carson were in on things together, but his jaw hit the floor when Dean revealed who Carson really was. Swore a bit. Says he is very impressed with how it all came together, though. Thinks that now they need to go get Sammy and end this once and for all. Made the word “all” echo dramatically. Said the power of the scepter was scary!


	45. Hallelujah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leaving bored salamanders unattended is a bad idea. Cass displays his hidden talent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've come to the main theme for this piece, the song that I wrote this entire story to, and it's even diegetic! The song is “Hallelujah” by Leonard Cohen. Even the original artist does different verses to this song with every performance, so I was unable to find a single piece with the verses I wanted, especially the final verse. The version I own, by Mr. Cohen, has all but the third. If anyone finds a version with the four verses used here, do please let me know!
> 
> Meanwhile, here is an instrumental version that fits with this chapter:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ELOqTy6HEvE

            “Have you checked on Baby?”

            Adam rolled his eyes.  “Yes, Dean, I was at your precious car, and she’s still safe and sound at Bobby’s.  I was out there before I went to see Blake, and that’s actually where I was when Crowley called and told me you’d been taken to the falls.”  Adam’s eyes grew troubled.  “I really thought I’d lost you, Dean.  I went out to the falls, tried to go to you.  But I just couldn’t.”

            “Do not even consider that, Adam!” Dean ordered.  “If anything happens to me, you need to go on!”

            “I know,” Adam sighed.  “That’s why I went to Blake, to be honest.  He helped a lot.”

            “Adam, what the hell is going on with you and that cop, anyway?” Dean asked.  “You two are creepily cozy together!”

            “Yeah, we, um, got to know each other a bit more while we were looking for you,” Adam replied evasively.

            Dean snorted.  “What the hell does that even mean?  What did you do, sleep with him?”

            Silence.

            Dean sputtered.  “You have got to be shitting me!  You’re telling me now that after those bastards dragged me to the falls and tried to drown me, you went and fucked an undine cop?!”

            “Look, I thought you were dead, ok?  I was a complete wreck and I had nowhere to turn!  Blake, he was there for me, and one thing led to another…”

            “How the hell did you go from worrying about me to fucking a cop?” Dean wanted to know.  “And not just any cop!  The cop married to the blonde whose tits we were both sucking a couple of days ago!”

            “She’s out of the picture.”

            “That makes it ok?”  Dean shook his head.  “Holy shit, Adam!  I cannot believe you fucked a cop!”

            “Yeah well, I did, ok?” Adam grumbled.  “After we sang together in that bar, I don’t know, we just clicked.  And you know I couldn’t stop thinking about him.  I guess we were just kind of meant to be together, you know?”

            Dean blinked.  “Wait, now you’re telling me this is more than just sex?  You’re actually _dating_ this cop?”  He grinned.  “Adam, were there perhaps handcuffs involved?”

            “You’re the one who was in handcuffs when we found you, Dean!”

            “Yes, but that was nonconsensual, Novak held me still but he wasn’t the one who put them on me, and I’m not fucking him!”  Dean paused.  “Was it good?”

            “Would you just forget about me and Blake for now?” Adam snapped.

            “So, it wasn’t?”

            “It was great, ok?  Now shut the fuck up about it!”

            Dean laughed.  Then his eyes softened as he smiled.  “I missed you, Adam.  You know that, right?  Those fucking undines!  They tortured me, buddy.  Then they tried to drown me.  And they almost succeeded!  Adam, all I wanted was to get back to you.  I was going crazy being away from you all this time, but Cass…  He just wouldn’t let me go!  And now look at where it got him, huh?  That stupid son of a bitch, why the hell wouldn’t he just let them drown me?  Now he’s in more danger than any of us!”  He shook his head.  “The sooner we get away from these guys, the better!”

            “I missed you too, but Dean, why do you want to run?” Adam wanted to know.  “Cass chose to help you, knowing he’d end up possibly paying for it with his life.  Don’t you think you owe it to him to stick around and at least try to make it right?  And besides, I’ve got something good going on with Blake, and…”

            Dean groaned, took Adam’s shoulders, and gave him a harsh shake.  “Adam!  I get it, ok?  Shelton’s hot as hell, he’s apparently a great fuck, and you’re lonely after Behati.  But when have rebound relationships ever worked for you?”

            “But Dean…!”

            Dean shook him again.  “We need these cops to get us out of this shithole town in one piece, _before_ Crowley can get his hands on you and make you his successor.  Then as soon as we’re out, we ditch them and we’re gone.  Bobby can help get Baby out later.  Then we’ll cross the border into Canada, drive all the way to fucking Alaska if we have to, and never set foot in this hellhole again!”

            “But Blake and Cass need us, especially Cass!  I can’t just run from that either, Dean.”

            “Either?”  Dean’s eyebrows shot up.  “Damn, brother, you’re really head over heels for that sweet-talking cowboy!”

            Adam was about to tell Dean what he thought about his comments when the sweet-talking cowboy in question stuck his head in the door.  “You three need to lie low for a moment here,” he called.  “In a few minutes, a couple of guys are bringing Cass’s car back over so I can go through it.  Let Cass know.”

            “They don’t think that’s odd?” Adam asked, surprised.

            “Eh, I fed ‘em a load of shit about getting into the head of the murderer and they bought it,” Blake said dismissively.  “I guess there is some advantage to being a successor.  Just keep your heads down, all three of you, and keep quiet!”

            It was surprisingly easy.  The cops dropped off Cass’s car, chatted a bit with Blake, and then left.  Cass joined Blake in bringing their things in.  Dean and Adam went to help and were immediately brought back in by Blake.  “You two do not go outside, not for any reason!” Blake warned.  He escorted the two to the dining room and pointed at the table.  “Now sit!”

            They sat.  They watched the two detectives bringing in Cass and Dean’s belongings.  Then Blake went right back out to the porch, and Cass returned to the study.

            The two salamanders stared at each other.  Dean propped his elbow on the table and rested his cheek against his hand.  “You as bored as I am?”

            Adam slumped.  “Worse.  This is worse than when your dad used to leave us behind in motel rooms or campsites!  At least when John left us alone, we were actually alone.  We’re here with Blake and Cass, and they’re both shutting us out?  This is bullshit, man!”

            “Dude, you said it!”  Dean crossed his arms on the table, lowered his head onto them, and sulked.  “How long does Blake expect us to sit here, anyway?  I feel like I’m on time-out or something!”

            “He probably forgot we’re even in here.”

            “Does that mean we can go?”

            “Maybe?  Where do you want to go?”

            “Hell if I know!”  Dean thumped his forehead against his arms.  “Bored, bored, bored!  Dammit, Adam, think of something, would you?”

            Adam frowned and thought, drumming his fingers on the dining room table.  Then he brightened.  “I know!  Wait here.”  He started towards the door.

            “Whoa, you’re going out?  Blake’s gonna be piiiiissed!” Dean singsonged.

            “Shut up!  It’s only to the garage, and I won’t even have to go outside.  If Blake and Cass won’t pay any attention to us, then we need something to entertain ourselves.  And I got just the thing.”

            Keeping an eye out for Blake, Adam snuck out into the garage and got into Blake’s truck.  Mission successful, he returned to Dean.  “Check this out,” he told Dean as he pulled the odd device closer on the table in the dining room.  “This is called a randomizer.  Blake, as he put it, ‘re-appropriated department property’ that he was supposed to destroy after a case, and brought it along in case we might need it when we went looking for you.  Some smart kid made it to alter cell phone signals.”

            Dean looked at the device.  “So, it’s a signal scrambler?  Boring, Adam, and I’m already bored!  Hiding from the law always did suck.”

            “No, dickhead, this is way better than a scrambler!”  Adam picked up the keypad.  “You can use this to plug in any number you want, or you can just plug in a random number.  And that’s the number that will come up instead of yours!  If we’d had something like this before, we wouldn’t have had to keep changing phones so much.  Did you know that the reason we kept getting hounded by cops was because a certain genius gave his number _and_ mine to someone’s soon-to-be ex-wife?  Why the hell would you give her my number, Dean?”

            “She gave it to the cops?  Ah, what a bitch!  Glad Blake’s divorcing her ass.”  Dean looked speculatively at the keypad.  “So, those new phones we just got.  We can use this to change the number so they can’t be traced back?”

            “Sure!”  Adam indicated the screen.  “First, you type in your actual number, so it locks on to your signal.  Then you type in the number you want displayed to the recipient, or push this button to have it generate a random number.  Then you make your call as usual.”

            Dean looked speculatively at the device.  “Does it work for texts, too?”

            “Sure, texts, data, pictures, the works!”

            “Awesome.”  Dean got up and stepped out of the room for a moment.  Adam noted a quick flash of light.  Then Dean returned, punched in a number Adam recognized as Blake’s, and sent something.

            Even before his phone pinged with an incoming image file, Adam knew exactly what his friend had done.  He sighed, deleting the picture without looking at it.  “Real high class, Dean.”

            “What?  Blake sent you a pretty picture and you deleted it?”  Dean shook his head, making tsk sounds.  “So rude!”  Cheerfully taking the keypad again, Dean punched in another number.

            Adam groaned, recognizing his own number, and lunged for Dean’s phone.  Too late.  Dean had already sent the photo.  “Aw, come on!” he was laughing as Adam sputtered.  “He sent you one, it’s only fair you return the favor!  Oh look, Blake’s responding already!”

            Adam strained.  “Give me that!”

            Dean struggled with Adam a bit, pushed him down over a chair, and sat on him.  “Don’t get your panties in a twist,” he advised as Adam tried to squirm free.  “Wait, why’s he responding to me?  I sent that from your number!”  Dean checked the text.  “’Dean stop playing with the randomizer?’  How the hell did he know it was me?”

            “He’s a detective!” Adam grunted, finally managing to push Dean off.  “He probably recognized your red underoos.”

            Dean gave him a frosty look.  “You’re confusing me with yourself.”  He picked up the keypad again, successfully held Adam back as his friend grabbed for it, and once again sent out the picture.

            A moment later, they heard Cass’s voice.  “What the…?  Blake!”  Cass went storming past the doorway into the dining room, headed towards the porch where Blake was relaxing.

            Adam snickered.  “Ok, I gotta admit, that was pretty funny!”

            Dean grinned wickedly.  “Do you happen to know Carson’s number?”

            “No, but I bet we can look it up!”  Adam ran to the study Cass had just vacated, grabbed the rolodex from the desk, looked through it, and rattled off Carson’s number.  “Who are you sending it to from Carson?”

            “Crowley,” Dean explained, dialing.

            Adam burst out laughing.  “Don’t forget to send it to Carson from Crowley, too!”

            “Doing that now.”  Dean sent the picture.  “I just wish we had something more to send that son of a bitch!”

            Adam waggled his eyebrows.  “Ever heard the expression ‘two heads are better than one?’”

            The two grinned at each other.  Then they both stood.

            “Should they be touching, or just, you know, next to each other?”

            “We’re pretty much going to have to have one facing one way and the other the next.”

            “Not if we angle them just right.  Push it to the side a bit and twist your hips.  Ok, hold still…”

            “That sucks!  Who taught you how to take a picture?”

            “Sorry, I don’t typically take these!  The angle’s weird.”

            “Here, let me do it!”

            “I can get it if you’d hold still!”

            “Just tilt it!”

            “Suck in your gut!”

            “May I ask exactly what it is that the two of you are doing?” Cass asked from the doorway.

            Dean and Adam froze.  Their eyes went wide as they stared at Cass.

            Cass’s blue eyes moved down, lingered for a moment, and then went back up to their faces.  He took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh.  “Get yourselves back together,” he ordered.  “And Adam, you come with me to the music room.  Dean, go to the kitchen, grab a beer, take it out to Blake, and ask him to join us.  Clearly the two of you cannot be left alone unsupervised.  Let’s find entertainment that’s a bit more family-friendly, shall we?”

****

            “A harp?  Seriously?  Do you think maybe you and Blake took this whole Carson’s Angels thing a bit too far?”

            “It was my father’s,” Cass explained.  “Grandma kept it and encouraged me to learn to play.  I’m actually not that bad, if you must know.”

            Adam raised his hands in surrender.  “So what are we doing here?  You going to play this thing?”

            “Blake mentioned you sing,” Cass said as he seated himself at the harp.  “If I play, will you sing for us?”

            “I guess?  I mean, if I know the song I can, but I sound like a girl.  Behati always told me to shut up.  She hated my singing.”

            “Then she’s a fool.  You forget I heard you singing, both of you, back at the jail when I behaved like a fool over Dean and nearly lost my job?”  Cass’s fingers moved over the strings as he spoke, seeming to get accustomed to them.  “You both have lovely voices, and Blake sings, as well.  I’d be honored to hear the three of you sing, and I’m happy to play for you.”

            “Just don’t ask him to sing!” Blake warned.  He and Dean were coming into the music room, bottles in hand.  “The one and only time I ever heard Cass sing, we were all ready to call FEMA to declare a national disaster!”

            “I was very drunk,” Cass explained.

            “He left ‘very drunk’ on the pavement and moved on to ‘blitzed out of his mind,’ to be honest,” Blake said.

            Cass gave him a level stare.  “And who’s fault was that?”

            “Hey, it wasn’t just me!”  Handing a bottle to Adam and setting another near Cass, Blake explained.  “After Cass got promoted to detective, we decided to throw him a party.”

            “Without telling me!”

            “It was a surprise party!”

            “You all descended on my home just as I was getting ready to sit down and have supper in front of the T.V.,” Cass grumbled.  “As I recall, I never did get to eat.  Every off-duty cop plus Carson and a few of your friends from town all charged in, whooping and hollering, waving various alcoholic beverages that you then proceeded to force on me…”

            “We did not force you!”

            “You all grabbed me, stripped me down to my underwear, tied me to a chair and threatened to shove a funnel in my mouth!” Cass exclaimed.

            Blake raised a finger.  “But!  We did not actually use that funnel.  You drank of your own free will.”

            “To avoid the aforementioned funnel!”

            “So anyway,” Blake continued, “once we got him drunk enough, we untied him, carried him outside, and chained him by the ankle to the tree in his front yard.”

            “In the rain!”  Cass was scowling fiercely.  “People were driving by, some multiple times, blowing their horns and laughing.  And I was so drunk that I kept forgetting I was chained up.  I kept trying to come inside, and then I’d be caught, and I’d scream at you to let me go, and you all laughed at me from my front porch while I struggled in the rain!  The next morning my ankle was raw from that chain.  Oh, and you continued to force drinks on me, by the way.  Or, as you called them, ‘experimental beverages’ you mixed up from only God knows what!  They all had to be at least 100 proof!”

            “We did start experimenting with mixed drinks about then,” Blake agreed.  “Mixing various concoctions and making Cass drink them…”

            Cass turned triumphantly to Adam and Dean.  “There, you see?  He admits I was forced!”

            “If by ‘forced’ you mean we’d make something, run it out to you, shove it in your hand and say, ‘Hey Cass, try this!’ and you’d drink it, then yes, you were certainly forced!” Blake said pleasantly.

            “You forgot the part where you kept telling me that you’d let me go if I drank it, and then you never did,” Cass growled.  “And you assholes nearly killed me!  I had alcohol poisoning!”

            “Yeah, that was a problem,” Blake admitted.  “About the time he started singing, we took a little poll and realized just how much alcohol we’d given the poor guy in a few hours’ time.  So I unchained him and carried him into his bathroom, where I stuck my finger down his throat…”

            Dean and Adam, who had been laughing to this point, now grimaced and made gagging noises.

            “Exactly!” Cass yelled.  “My first day as a detective ended up with me chained out in the rain in my underwear in my own yard, so drunk I was singing at the top of my lungs after midnight!  And then my new partner stuck his finger down my throat and tried to brainwash me!”

            “Ok, now you’re exaggerating.”

            “I am not exaggerating!”

            “I didn’t throw you anywhere, Cass!  I let you puke your guts out, and then I carried you into your shower,” Blake corrected.  “You were kind of a mess, buddy, and I was a little worried about how cold you were…”

            “That happens when you’re chained out in the rain in your underwear in the middle of the night, Blake!”

            “But I did not try to brainwash you.”

            “You kept slapping me and repeating ‘Carson’s screwing Miller’ over and over!”

            Blake frowned.  “Was I?”

            “Yes!  Carson finally dragged you off of me, and you passed out right in the middle of the bathroom floor.  The rest of the night, anyone who had to use the toilet had to step over you.  And they left me to sleep it off in the shower!”

            “I may have had a few of those experimental beverages,” Blake offered, shrugging at Dean and Adam.

            “Oh, this is bullshit!” Adam managed, laughing.  “You guys are cops, and you have more fun than we ever had!”

            “Aw, come on,” Blake scoffed.  “You guys never got drunk and did stupid shit with your friends?”

            Dean and Adam suddenly quieted.  “We, um, never had friends,” Dean explained.  “Dad moved us around too much for that.”

            An awkward silence fell.

            Cass huffed.  Then once more, his fingers moved on the strings of the harp.  A familiar, mournful melody emerged from the instrument.  Adam had never heard a harp in real life before.  He was expecting a lot of rolling glissandos, but the instrument actually sounded very much like a piano.  Well, that was to be expected, wasn’t it?  A piano had a harp in it, after all.  Interested, he moved closer to Cass.  “Is that ‘Hallelujah’ you’re playing?” he asked.

            “It was Grandma Esther’s favorite song,” he explained.  “She wanted me to play it for her, so I learned it.  But I never did get to play it for her.  We were both always too busy.”

            The reminder of how much Cass had lost sobered everyone.  Suddenly self-conscious, Adam picked up the sheet music near Cass.  It was for the song he was playing.  Adam cocked his head, listening, and came in on the verse.

            _“Well I heard there was a secret chord that David played and it pleased the Lord.  But you don't really care for music, do ya?  Well it goes like this, the fourth, the fifth, the minor fall and the major lift, the baffled king composing Hallelujah.”_

            Blake had stepped closer while Adam sang, and now he joined in on the chorus.  _“Hallelujah, hallelujah!  Hallelujah, hallelujah!”_

            Gently taking the sheet music from Adam, Blake took over for the second verse.  _“Your faith was strong, but you needed proof.  You saw her bathing on the roof.  Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew ya!  She tied you to her kitchen chair, she broke your throne and she cut your hair and from your lips she drew the Hallelujah!”_

            And now Dean had moved to join them as well, joining in with the other two on the chorus.  Blake wordlessly handed the music to him, and Dean picked up the next verse.  _“Maybe there's a God above, but all I've ever learned from love was how to shoot somebody who outdrew ya.  And it's not a cry that you hear at night, it's not someone who's seen the light, it's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah!”_

            Blake and Adam moved to harmonize, letting Dean take the melody for the chorus.  And then, softly, seemingly shy, Cass’s voice rose as well.  _“I did my best, it wasn’t much.  I couldn’t feel, so I tried to touch.  I told the truth, I didn’t come to fool ya.”_   Cass’s voice wasn’t polished like Blake and Adam, or even naturally rich like Dean’s.  But it was pure, and surprisingly on-tune.  He flushed, seeing the astonished eyes of the others on him, but continued to sing, his voice becoming stronger as he did so.  _“But even though it all went wrong, I’ll stand before the lord of song with nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah!”_

            The other three, smiling, immediately followed up with the chorus, Dean staying on melody while Blake and Adam split into perfect harmony.  Cass simply listened, his fingers caressing the strings, then finishing up with a beautiful soft flourish.

            For a time, all four were still and silent.  No one needed to say the obvious.  Each was aware that the verse he’d just performed described perfectly each singer’s own personal pain, what each one had experienced in his search for love.

            Finally, it was Dean who broke the spell.  “I need a shower,” he announced to everyone and no one.  “Where is it?”

            “The main bathroom is upstairs,” Cass offered.  “Towels should be in the cupboard across the hall.”

            Nodding, Dean headed out.  But Adam was almost sure that he saw something glisten on his friend’s cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun announced that Dean had a single man tear. Laughed about the dick pics and getting busted by Cass. I played the video that I linked for Mr. Fun while I read that section of the story to him and he very much enjoyed it. He had never heard a harp before. I’m glad I got to share that with him!


	46. A Cold Day In Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley visits with Sam in Hell

            It was freezing in Hell.  Again.  And the contractor had sworn the HVAC would be fixed by this afternoon.  Crowley was scowling fiercely as he stormed towards his office.  “Where is that fucking contractor?” he demanded of his underlings.

            “Said he can’t make it today and he’ll try to get to it tomorrow,” one of them informed him.

            “He what?”  Crowley blinked.  “There is quite simply no honor among thieves!”  Muttering to himself, Crowley stomped off towards the prison section of Hell.

            His underling followed.  “He’s barricaded himself inside,” he explained.  “Thinks we can’t get to him.  Meanwhile, he’s in there trying to wreck the place.”

            “Lovely.  I should get him to work on the HVAC.  Alright, let me through.”

            Sure enough, when Crowley opened the cell door, he faced a pile of jumbled furniture.  Crowley rolled his eyes.  Then he changed into his elemental form and slipped around the junk to come up behind Agent Sam Winchester.

            Sam, it appeared, was determined to be the worst type of guest.  The dresser, mattress, desk chair, and wardrobe had been used to barricade the door.  He’d somehow managed to dismantle the metal frame of the bed.  The desk had been dragged into the middle of the room, and Sam was currently standing precariously on top of it with part of the bed’s frame in his hand.  As Crowley watched, Sam used the metal to dig into the ceiling.  Shattered pieces of the fireproof ceramic tiles lay broken all around the agent.  His suit jacket hung from a hook on the wall, along with his tie.  They were the only neat things in the entire room.

            The agent himself was a mess.  The white dress shirt he wore was sticking to him, soaked through with the sweat of exertion that also dripped from his hair, plastering it to his face and neck.  By the look of the room, Sam had been at his task for some time.  The door had several dents.  Holes had been punched in multiple locations on the walls, floor, and ceiling, going through the ceramic tiles, into the concrete, and exposing the damp earth surrounding Hell.  He was covered in concrete dust and debris.  Crowley watched, amused, as more concrete crumbled down.  Sam quickly brushed it out of his eyes and reached up.  The long fingers pried the broken concrete free.  He stared at yet another exposed patch of earth and cursed, one fist pounding against the remaining ceiling in frustrated anger.  He climbed down and hurled the metal into one corner.  His fingers clutched at his sodden hair.  A sound, half whine and half groan, came from his throat as he stood, panting and covered in sweat and grime, in the middle of the room.

            Then he dropped his hands, turned, and finally saw the flaming figure standing near the door.  The green eyes widened.  “Help me,” he pleaded.  “I’ve been kidnapped!  Crowley’s locked me in here, but even if I get out of this cell, I can’t get out of Hell because I’m not a salamander!  It would be so easy for you to help me!  Please get me out?”

            Crowley could hear the desperation in the agent’s voice, but he could hear the steel as well.  The moose had obviously realized that there was no way he could escape on his own.  Yet he still wasn’t beaten.  His jaw was set and his hands were fisted as he eyed this spectacle, a man made of living flames, standing in front of the door he’d barricaded.  This was the first time he’d ever seen a full elemental.  He was anxious, Crowley noted, but not afraid.  Good.  The agent needed to be controlled, but still have some fight left in him if he was to be of any real use to Crowley.

            The green eyes grew frosty when Crowley returned to his human form.  “Hello, Moose!” Crowley called cheerfully.  “I just love what you’ve done with the place.  Have you any idea what a chore it is to get large pieces of furniture down the Gates of Hell?  That wardrobe and the bed you’ve destroyed were two-man jobs!  Shoving large objects onto the elemental plane long enough to get them down here…”

            “Let me go, Crowley!” Sam demanded.  “Let me _out!”_

            More than anything, Crowley hated being interrupted.  He paused for a moment, letting the rude moose understand that he’d transgressed before speaking.  “Have you figured out yet that I’ve told you the truth?” he asked quietly.  “Hell isn’t just a hidden office and safehouse.  It’s a complete underground bunker!  It’s got its own water and sewage, electricity with back-up generators, HVAC, and air filtration and circulation.  We could survive a nuclear war down here, Sammy!  There are exactly two connections with the outside world – the pipes that bring wiring, ventilation, water and sewage down here, and the Gates of Hell.  I do not recommend that you attempt to climb out through the sewage system, my dear lad.  The water and sewage pipes are warded against the Undine, the air ventilation systems are warded against the Sylph, and all around this bunker, the cement has been warded against the Pygmy.  Only salamanders can enter here.  And you’re fully aware that you cannot pass through the Gates of Hell.  You are not going anywhere.”

            Sam’s lips curled back into a snarl.  “Fucking let me out!”

            “Ooo, language!” Crowley tsked.  “You sound like your big brother now.  And here I’d thought you were the civilized one!  Incidentally, don’t you think it’s a bit daft, demanding that I let you out when you’re the one who barricaded yourself in here in the first place?”

            “You know damned well what I mean!  I’ll see you pay for abducting me, Fergus Crowley!  It’s only going to get worse the longer you keep me trapped down here.  Let me out!  Now!”

            “You’re going to have to calm down, Sammy.  This behavior is completely uncivilized.”

            “Crowley, if you don’t let me the fuck out of here right fucking now, you are going to discover just how uncivilized I can be!”

            Crowley only smiled.  His phone pinged in his pocket and he drew it to discover an image file from Carson.  Opening it made him blink.  He wasn’t sure why Carson would send him such a thing and had no idea how to respond to it.  Frowning, he deleted the image and replaced the phone back in his pocket.

            The Salamander shook his head as he looked again around the room.  “You know, I hadn’t intended to lock you up.  As a show of good faith, my plan was to let you roam freely in Hell.  But you hadn’t been in Hell for more than three hours before I’d already been approached twice about moving you here.  Did you really harass my men that much?  They said there’s not a soul in Hell that you haven’t begged, bribed, or threatened, trying to get someone, anyone, to let you out!”  He indicated the barricaded door.  “I would prefer to have an open door policy, for the most, between the two of us.  But look at the mess you’ve made!  What if I did keep you locked up the entire time you were here, huh, Moose?  Do you think maybe that might settle you down, teach you a spot of manners?”

            “You trapped me down in this pit, and then you had your thugs throw me in here and lock me up!  You thought, what, that I’d be thrilled about it?”

            “Perhaps I could put that bed back together and tie you to it?” Crowley suggested, still smiling pleasantly.  “Let you go only long enough to use the gents?  Would that perhaps calm you?  You know, I’ve never been into bondage, but if that’s what it takes, I’m willing to give it a go!”

            If looks could kill, Crowley imagined he’d be a twitching corpse on the floor right now.  But the agent seemed to get the message.  The green eyes flicked around the room as Sam chewed on his lip.  They stopped speculatively on the piece of metal that he’d been using to dig into the walls.  Then they moved back to Crowley.

            “Try it,” Crowley offered.  “After I’ve burned all the skin off of your hands, I imagine it will be a far sight harder for you to destroy my walls, won’t it?  Do go on!”

            For a moment, Sam locked eyes with his captor.  Then he shook his head, looking disgusted.  He turned around, stomped over to the corner farthest from Crowley, and sat down with his back to the wall.

            Crowley’s smile widened.  He’d tried multiple times to try to talk with Sam, and each time had to crush a little rebellion.  Each time, it was easier.  When the lanky agent had understood that Crowley intended to keep him here in Hell, the first thing he’d done was take a swing at him.  Or rather, he’d tried.  Crowley’s bodyguards were on him fast, dragging Sam kicking and screaming into this cell.  He’d stayed there for some time, long enough to calm down before Crowley ordered the agent to be released.  As soon as he was out of the cell, he’d gone running through Hell, trying every door, frantically searching for an exit.  Crowley had been forced to leave to attend to things topside at the time, but he’d ordered his staff to see to the agent’s comfort.  He’d even gone so far as to have them ask the agent what kind of foods he’d like, and made arrangements to have Sam’s belongings brought back from his hotel room.  Naturally, he’d taken away the agent’s phone and tablet, but there was no service in Hell and the wifi was password protected anyway.  It probably hadn’t been necessary.  But the flustered agent had gone on a regular tear through Hell, Crowley’s people had called twice to complain, and Crowley had finally given the order to lock him back up again.

            Crowley’s phone beeped again, this time with a message from Carson.  Y U SEND ME PIC OF UR DICK? Carson wanted to know.

            Crowley rolled his eyes.  I DID NO SUCH THING.  WE’RE OBVIOUSLY BEING PRANKED.

            CAME FROM UR NUMBER!

            YES, AND EARLIER I RECEIVED ONE FROM YOU.  PLEASE GRANT ME A BIT MORE CLASS THAN THAT.

            SHOULD HAVE KNOWN IT WASN’T U.  U WOULD SELL UR SOUL FOR 3 MORE INCHES.

            Crowley chose to ignore that.  He returned his attention to Sammy, who was sitting quietly in the corner.  The last time he’d spoken to the agent, Sam was still angry, but much calmer.  By then, he’d come to realize how trapped he really was and hadn’t tried to attack Crowley again.  Instead, he’d tried bargaining interspaced with threats.  Crowley had chatted away at him, ignoring this in favor of complaining about various cases he had coming up.  Sam had grown more and more frustrated until he’d finally started screaming at Crowley to shut up.  Crowley had informed Sam that he was now on a time out, left him alone, and had returned again to the surface.  Now finally, having exhausted his last effort to free himself, Sam was calm enough to sit quietly.  Progress at last.

            Crowley pulled up the chair, moving it towards the center of the room, and sat down.  “There’s been quite a bit going on today while you’ve been a guest here, Moose,” he began.  “Sylph, our Lead Elder, has been murdered.  And your darling big brother and that lovesick detective that’s been mooning after him are the prime suspects!”

            “Dean’s dead!” Sam snapped.  “Even if Novak stole his body…”

            “Ah, but that’s the thing.  It seems that the announcement of Squirrel’s demise may have been a bit premature.”

            Sam brightened.  “Now you have to let me go.  Murder is federal!  Let me out so I can handle this case.”

            Crowley rolled his eyes.  “Oh Moose, you’re not going anywhere.”

            Sam sputtered.  “Dammit, Crowley!  This isn’t a fucking game!  People are dead, and this time, it’s your elemental king!”

            “Queen.”

            “Whatever!  This isn’t your Final Justice!  If you want to keep your precious elementals from becoming subjects of a major federal investigation, you’ve got to let me handle it!”

            “You do realize that no one even knows you’re still in town?” Crowley asked pleasantly.  “And your home office believes you’re still on sabbatical!  No one is looking for you!  Why on Earth would anyone think to bring you in on this investigation?”

            Sam let out his breath in a low hiss of frustration.  “Crowley?  You know that every time a new agent investigates this town, your risk of being found out goes up.  But I already know.  I’m from here, and I have elemental blood.  I’m the perfect person to investigate!  Maybe no one else knows I’m here, but you do!  Let me out so I can handle this.  Please!”

            “I’m not letting you out,” Crowley said bluntly.  “Don’t think of it as punishment, Moose.  It really is for your own protection.  You see, I’m reasonably certain that the Undine’s the one who murdered Sylph.  And now he’s out there, with his loyal sycophant Shelton, conducting the murder investigation.  I know it’s serious if the two of them are willing to throw Castiel Novak under the bus!  Not only is that angel-faced bastard one of Carson’s favorites, but he’s the brother of the new Sylph!  It’s not like Carson to throw aside a political connection like that.”  He shrugged.  “Then again, we are speaking of Anna Novak.  Family connections may not mean quite so much to her.  The only thing that reliably gets that frigid bitch’s nipples hard is money, or rather the power that money provides.  Now, I know what you’re thinking, Moose.  You’re thinking, ‘Gee, Crowley, if that’s the case, she should be fairly easy to bribe!’  But she’s infuriatingly loyal to her elementals and a complete goody two-shoes.  The one time I sent someone out to talk to her, she had him thrown out of her office and even threatened to call the cops!  Can you imagine?”

            Sam was staring at him.  “Did you just tell me that the potential perpetrator of the murder of your Lead Elder is investigating himself?  And you’re ok with this?”

            “Oh, I’m rather far from ok, but it’s not as though I can do much about it, can I?”

            “You could let me out so I can arrest him!” Sam exclaimed.

            Crowley cocked an eyebrow at him.  “All by yourself?”

            “I’m a federal agent!  I can call in the whole damned Portland office, roll right through this town…”

            “Not _this_ town!  I won’t put my salamanders at risk like that!  But it illustrates the problem.  For now, the Undine’s got free reign.  But I can use it to my advantage.  I’ve already been planting seeds.”  He lowered his voice to a conspiratory whisper.  “Chief Carson Daly let a rogue salamander slip through his fingers!  He can’t protect the town.  Now the Lead Elder’s been murdered on his watch!  We need someone who’s not afraid to do what it takes to protect us.  Someone like Crowley!”

            “Someone who’s going to jail as soon as this damned election is over?”  Sam’s voice was bitter.  “You don’t make a bit of sense, Crowley.  If Daly really is such a big bad boogie man that I’m not a threat to him, why are you keeping me here?  If I start a federal probe on him, that can only help you, and I’ve got the evidence to initiate it!”

            “Ah, Sammy, me boy-o, you’re just too important!”  Carson looked fondly at Sam.  “You see, if you start poking Carson’s nest, all the hornets are going to come out after you.  Bad enough he’s got a full manhunt out looking for Squirrel!  But don’t worry.  I won’t allow your brother to be sent back to the falls.  I’ll bring him down here and lock him into that cell next to yours, and the two of you can have a chat.”  He made a face.  “But then again, that bastard Carson might just murder him on the spot, and then won’t I have a fine fix on my hands?”

            “Wait, you want to lock Dean up, too?”

            “I need Levine to serve as my successor so that I can take the scepter of Lead Elder,” Crowley explained patiently.  “But Levine, based on past experience, is likely to be, well, resistive.  But your dear old dad already gave me the leash around his neck, and its name is Dean Winchester!  John raised those two to be completely dependent on each other, by design.  Adam Levine needs help to control his powers, and our Squirrel can provide it!  You see, Moose, you Winchesters were never powerful enough to be considered for elders.  But what about the silver medal?  After all, John initially wanted to be the power behind Roman Levine’s throne…”

            “…Until you murdered him!”

            Crowley shrugged.  “Well, what didn’t work out so well for John can still work for Dean.  More importantly, it can work for me.  Because while I can’t lock up my successor, I can lock up your brother!  Levine will do anything for him.  As long as he’s under my power, I can control them both.  And I will keep him in that room until one or the other of those two breaks through that damnable stubborn streak they both have, realizes that working with me is far superior to working against me, and they both follow of their own free will.  And thanks to your father’s A+ parenting skills, I only need one to break before the other inevitably follows!”

            No response from Sam.  Crowley glanced over, noting the agent’s troubled expression.  “Ah, sorry, Moose,” he called.  “I forgot.  It must be difficult for you, knowing your father left you behind and took your brother away.”

            “Honestly?  I already came to grips with the knowledge that the men I knew as my father and my brother were based on lies.  And the more I have learned about John Winchester and how he raised Dean and Adam, the happier I am that he didn’t take me.”  He paused, eyeing Crowley.  “You realize you’ll never break either one of them?  Dean’s the one who found those records, and if he’s alive, by now he’s told Adam all about what you did!  Do you really think they’ll ever forgive you for what you did to their fathers?”

            “I imagine it will take time, but that is what the cell next to yours is for.”

            “And what about me?  Your story now is that you’re basically keeping me in protective custody?”

            “Absolutely!” Crowley agreed.  “If Carson gets his hands on you, I’m afraid you’ll never been seen or heard from again.  And I need you alive and well to help me take down Carson once and for all once I’m Lead Elder.”  He spread out his hands, indicating Hell.  “This is the one place that Carson Daly absolutely cannot get into.  As long as you’re here, you’re safe.  And after the election, you can start investigating.  I’ll of course keep you here while the investigation goes on…”

            “Excuse me?!”

            Carson held up a hand.  “It’s just until Carson’s censured and safely behind bars.  I’ll set you up with an office, phone lines and computers so you can direct the investigation.  But the two of us will stay safely hidden away down here.  Then, once Carson is censured and can’t harm either one of us, of course I’ll let you out.  You only need a bit of patience now and some hard work later.”

            “You son of a bitch!”  Sam got to his feet, clenching his fists.  “An investigation like that could take months, years!  You said you’d let me go in a week, after you won the election!”

            “And I was sincere.  But then that bastard murdered the lead Elder.  Before that, I believed that my new position as Lead Elder, combined with your status as an FBI agent, would be enough to back him off.  But now, I’m afraid for us both, Moose.  So I’ll keep us safe.  We’re allies, you and I!”

            “This is bullshit!  Exactly how long do you think you can keep me here?”

            Crowley suddenly lost patience with the stubborn agent.  “I don’t _think_ anything, boy!  I _know_ that I can keep you here until the bloody cows come home if that’s what it takes!  This is _Hell!_   By now you understand that you cannot get out, and none of my people are going to go behind my back and help you, especially now!  The only reason everyone’s been so sodding nice to you all this time is because they know how important you are!”  Crowley rose, glaring up at Sam.  “You’ve irritated everyone down here, and the only reason no one has punched you in the mouth?  Because they all know that you’re our best and only real chance to finally get out from under Lucifer’s thumb.  You’re our guest of honor, Moose!  Do try to act a little grateful?”

            Sam started forward.  “Fuck you!  Let me out, Crowley!”

            “And once more, we’re back at the point where you want to physically assault me,” Crowley sighed, rolling his eyes.

            “You’re damned right I do!  Let me out!  I won’t fucking help you unless you let me out!”

            “Yes, you will,” Crowley explained.  “Otherwise, you’ll stay down here until you die of old age.”  Crowley checked his watch.  “If you don’t mind, it’s getting late.  I’m sure you’re exhausted after all you’ve done in here today.  Go wash up and get some rest.  Oh, Moose?  Tomorrow, do be a mate and clean up this mess you’ve made?  After all, you’re living here now.  Try to keep it tidy?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun says there are two salamanders who will gladly bring down an undine and a sylph to deal with him. I pointed out that slyphs are weak against fire, but Mr. Fun says Blake can give him a shammie shield like in W.O.W. For those who don’t know what that is, it’s a shield of water. Says Crowley irritates the hell out of him and he cannot wait until he gets his comeuppance.


	47. Doubles Canasta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam helps Blake relax, while Dean puzzles through his feelings. Cass jumps to the wrong conclusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non-diegetic song for this chapter, main theme for Dean in this story, is "Hold On To The Nights" by Richard Marx  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SuZ23dn-M4Y

 

            Blake shooed Adam out of the music room after Dean had gone, staying behind to make certain the other detective was alright.  Adam understood that.  He loved that about his boyfriend, that the big man was so gentle and honestly caring.  But Adam was a quick study in the Art of Reading Blake.  He’d seen the deepening of the lines around Blake’s eyes, the tension evident in the set of his jaw.  Blake was shouldering the burden of caring for all of them, and it was starting to wear on him.

            Blake was looking after them all.  Now it was Adam’s turn to see to Blake.

            Adam lingered outside the music room for what felt like an eternity until Cass finally came out.  The younger detective’s eyes were red and puffy.  Adam’s heart immediately went out to him.  “I’m really sorry.  About your grandmother.  But you play beautifully, Cass.  I hope, wherever she is, she heard it.”

            Cass smiled.  He patted Adam’s shoulder and then passed by, heading back to continue his studies.

            Blake was coming out as well.  He was smiling, but his eyes looked weary.  His thumbs were hooked into the waist of his jeans and his shoulders were slightly slumped, as though the weight of what had been placed on them was almost too much to bear.  Adam quickly got in his path.  “Hey,” he said.

            “Hey yourself.”  The blue eyes shone as they looked fondly down.  “You need something?”

            “Yeah.”  Adam dared to move closer, getting into Blake’s personal space.  He compounded it by reaching out a hand, gently stroking his fingers over Blake’s chest.  “Um, I was wondering if you had plans, something you needed to do right now?”

            “Nothing I couldn’t put off.”  Blake’s eyes were full of interest now.  “You got something in mind?”

            Adam smiled.  He ducked his head slightly, peering up at Blake through his lashes.  “I, um, I thought that maybe you might want to come with me?”

            “Where we going?”

            “Nowhere.”

            Blake cocked an eyebrow.  His smile grew a bit wider.  “I see.  These plans of yours, they wouldn’t happen to involve at least moving upstairs into one of those bedrooms by chance?”

            “Well, yeah, I mean, obviously!”  Adam blushed, and Blake’s smile grew even wider.  Adam’s blush deepened.  “Um, Blake?” he asked.  “I was wondering.  What would you say if I told you that I thought maybe I was falling in love with you?”

            “I would say,” Blake replied, “that you were full of shit.”

            Adam blinked.  He looked sharply up at Blake.  Blake managed to hold his serious expression for maybe three seconds before he snickered.  Scowling, Adam swatted his arm.  “You’re such a prick, Shelton!  I’m being serious here!”

            “I know.  And in truth?  I think I moved past ‘maybe’ some time ago.”  And once again, those sky blue eyes pinned him in their steady gaze.

            A wave of heat raced through him.  Trying to ignore this, Adam took hold of Blake’s belt loops and began walking backwards, moving the larger man up the stairs and into the first bedroom they came to.

            Blake allowed himself to be led, ambling along on his long legs with his hands at his side and his eyes fixed on Adam.  He pushed the door shut behind them.

            Adam pulled him over to the bed, stopping when the backs of his thighs contacted the bed.  Then he dared to look back up.

            Now the blue eyes were smoldering.  “Adam?” Blake asked.  “Why don’t you get yerself up on that bed?”

            Adam’s first instinct was to obey.  But then a mischievous spark lit itself inside of him.  He raised his chin and gave Blake a snarky wink.  “Why don’t you make me, Big Country?”

            Blake’s eyebrows shot up.  He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes.  “My little guy wants to play rough?  Okey dokey!”

            Then the big hands were on Adam’s arms.  Adam gasped as he was lifted off of his feet and then thrown, firmly yet gently, onto the bed.  He laughed.  Blake, laughing as well, climbed on top of him, pulling off his shirt as he went.

            Adam squirmed, twisting around to try to climb back off of the bed.  But Blake wouldn’t have it.  A long arm went around his waist, pulling him back even as his shirt was pulled off over his head.  Then he felt Blake’s knee on the small of his back, pinning him down while Blake peeled off his clothing.  Adam struggled, cursing as he found himself caught.  “No fair!” he laughed.  “You’re bigger than me!”

            “Tough luck, Rockstar.  Should have thought of that before you started this!”

            Blake let him go long enough to climb out of his jeans, catching Adam by the ankle to pull him back onto the bed when Adam playfully tried to climb off.  Catching Adam’s hips, he positioned Adam in the center of the bed and pinned him with his weight, pressing down to mouth at Adam’s neck.  And then he was latching onto him, making him yelp.  “Don’t give me a hicky, you ass!”

            “Marking my territory!” Blake responded.  The movement of his lips against Adam’s neck brought out gooseflesh.

            Adam had thought ahead.  He gestured towards the silver packet of lube and the condom that were sticking from the pocket of his jeans.  Blake noticed this and laughed.  “You planned this!” he accused.

            “Maybe?”  Adam looked back and up at Blake, smiling.  “You can let me up if you mind!”

            “You’re not going anywhere, ya damned little tease!”

            The words were playful, but the tone was tender, and now, so were Blake’s hands.  They gently caressed Adam’s neck and shoulders, moving down to his back, his waist, stopping to softly kneed his ass.  Adam sighed and closed his eyes, relaxing into the sensation.  Blake reached down, retrieved the necessary items from Adam’s jeans and readied them.  Adam lifted his hips, letting Blake position him with a pillow.  The hand on the pillow moved to his belly, took him in hand.  And then Blake’s other hand carefully inserted a lubed his finger and began to prep him, even as he stroked.  “This alright, baby?” Blake asked gently.

            Adam’s reply was a sharp intake of breath, followed by a moan.  “Take me apart, Blake?” he begged.  “Do whatever you want to me, just so long as you put me back together in the end!”

            “I will.  I promise you, I will!”

****

            Dean stood in the shower, relishing the feel of the hot water on his skin.  Grandma Esther either had a king sized hot water tank, or a tankless water heater.  He knew that he’d been there at least half an hour and there was no change in the water temperature.  The strength had finally returned to his body.  As much as he hated the idea of being beholden to an undine cop, he had to admit Shelton had done a hell of a job.  Dean just wished there had been a better way to go about healing the damage to his lungs.  Being held down while Shelton forced the healing water into his airways had been awful.  He’d felt as if he was drowning all over again!  Oddly enough, it had been Cass’s quiet reassurance, even more so than Adam’s presence, that had kept Dean from completely freaking out.  And of course, they’d all been right.  He couldn’t deny the results, clear lungs, no fever to sap his strength or energy.  The aching in his ribs from coughing was gone.  Shelton had even healed the marks on Dean’s wrists from the handcuffs, although Dean considered that his due right.  After all, it had been his airhead of a partner who’d lost the keys that resulted in those marks.  Cass was never living that one down.

            Cass.  That was a problem.  Angel Eyes was like an itch that Dean couldn’t scratch.  Over and over again, his mind returned to the detective.  Blue eyes and tousled hair filled his thoughts.  Yeah, ok, the guy was hot.  There was no doubt about that!  But Cass Novak was certainly not the first hot guy in Dean’s life!  He was, however, the first hot guy who had risked everything, given up his entire life, for him.  For _him!_   And that, more than anything else, was what Dean kept coming back to.  He knew what he saw when he looked into the mirror, but looks faded.  Even sex didn’t last forever.  So Dean didn’t understand.  He couldn’t figure out why Cass looked at him, touched him with such tenderness.  The way his voice softened when he spoke with Dean.  The way those deep blue eyes seemed to get just a shade deeper when they met his own.  Twice, _twice_ now, Cass had been near him, looking at him with those soulful eyes of his, and Dean hadn’t been able to keep himself from kissing him.  Both times, Cass had seemed startled, kissing him back but doing nothing to press things further.  And that was new, too.  Cass was clearly attracted to Dean, yet every time, he’d held himself in check.  Any of Dean’s other lovers would have pulled him down or climbed on top of him almost immediately.  Never before had anyone treated him with such… respect?  That wasn’t the word.  No, Cass treated Dean with _reverence,_ as though Dean was a precious, fragile thing to be cherished and treasured rather than the good, quick fuck he’d always been.  Even when Cass had been at his worst, when Dean first woke up after the falls and Cass had threatened to restrain him completely to the bed, Cass had done nothing to actually hurt him.  And Dean had certainly pushed every button he could reach!  Come to think of it, even during their fight at the courthouse, Cass had chosen his blows carefully.  He’d been working to incapacitate Dean, not injure him.

            It was almost as if Dean meant something to him.

            Of course, that was ludicrous.  Dean had been on the receiving end of many crushes and romantic infatuations in his time.  If someone was nice enough, or persistent enough, Dean would give them what they wanted and then move on.  And every time, the emotions had quickly died once Dean left them behind and moved on to the next town.  He wasn’t the kind of guy that anyone wanted long term.  What had his father said?  “Relationships are a liability and a noose around your neck.”  Well, he’d seen proof enough of that with Adam, hadn’t he?  Look at the bullshit he’d gone through with his latest ex-girlfriend!  Adam had been a wreck, drinking his sorrows away.  Of course, then he’d jumped right into Blake’s arms.  He’d already slept with the undine cop, and it looked as if Adam was once again daydreaming about something lasting.  Dean shook his head, disgusted.  When would Adam learn?  People like them did not have long-lasting relationships.  Their lives were a long series of one-night stands, a quick hot fuck in the backseat of a car, a cheap motel room, maybe once in a while a dark room with the door tightly locked.  Every time, go out the door or the window, thanks for a good time, see ya, wouldn’t wanna be ya.  Hell, the closest thing Dean had ever had to a lasting relationship was hooking up with Shelton’s wife when he passed through town, and the only reason that had lasted as long as it had was because they were both clear that it was no-strings-attached sex!  It was precisely why they’d had Adam join them the last time.  But now Adam was with a cop.  An undine cop!  Dean could not imagine a worse pairing.  The sooner he got Adam away, the better.  Adam would probably be hurt, mope around a bit, maybe even start drinking again.  But that would be nothing compared to what his friend would go through once Shelton inevitably turned on him.

            Turning off the water, Dean climbed out of the shower.  He fought back a twinge of disappointment.  Then he frowned, wondering what the hell that was about?  To his dismay, he realized that the reason he’d lingered so long in the shower was that, subconsciously, he’d been hoping for company.  For fuck’s sake, he’d even intentionally left the door unlocked and opened a crack in obvious invitation!  What the hell was wrong with him?  Alright, time to be honest with himself.  He missed Cass, missed the way that the detective wouldn’t let Dean out of his sight while they’d been on the run together, missed the way he was always right there, ready to shoot out a steadying hand if Dean stumbled.  For fuck’s sake!  The guy just discovered his grandmother had been brutally murdered and he faced a better than average chance of being censored and then dying horribly in flames.  Sex was probably the last thing on Cass’s mind right now.  _Grow up, Dean!_

            Dean hurriedly toweled off and dressed, glad to be back in his own clothes. Scowling, he leaned on the sink, glaring into his own mirrored eyes.  _Fuck me, I’ve got it bad, don’t I?  I’ve actually got a crush on this damned cop!_

            And then he heard it.  From somewhere close by, Adam gave a muffled cry.

            Dean quickly moved out into the hall.  Now he could hear it better, Adam crying out in time with a steady thudding.  It sounded as if Adam was being beaten, crying out in pain while someone held a cruel hand over his mouth to quiet him.  Dean snarled, clenching his fists as he heard Shelton’s low chuckle.  That son of a bitch!  That fucking undine cop was beating Adam, and laughing about it!

            Dean saw red.  He charged down the hall towards the source of the sound, throwing open the bedroom door.  He’d kill that bastard for hurting his friend!  He’d…

            Adam lay face down on the bed, facing the door.  His eyes were closed, and his face was flushed.  One hand was splayed on the headboard.  The other was fisted and held against his mouth, muffling his cries.  Blake was on top of him, between Adam’s spread thighs.  One of his arms circled Adam’s waist, holding the smaller man tightly against him.  The other covered Adam’s hand on the headboard, fingers laced with Adam’s.  Both men were naked.  Blake was thrusting vigorously.  He rolled his hips, causing Adam to cry out into his fist again as the headboard thumped dully against the wall under the pressure of their joined hands.

            [Dean could only stare with an open mouth.](https://funtimewriter.tumblr.com/image/165377909722) Blake looked over, grinned, and winked, never slowing.  Adam’s eyes blinked open, glassy with passion until they fixed on Dean.  Then he snarled.  “Dean, get the hell out!” he hollered.  He grabbed a pillow and gunned it at Dean’s face.

            Dean caught the pillow, backed quickly out of the room, and closed the door.  He stood as he was, clutching the pillow to his chest, staring stupidly at the closed door.  Behind the door, the sounds of great sex continued.  Dean suddenly discovered that he couldn’t get enough air.  He could feel his cheeks burn as his blood raced to the surface.

            “Dean?  You ok?”

            Cass.  The detective was coming up the stairs, probably in response to hearing Adam yelling at Dean.  For once, he was out of his trench coat and suit, wearing casual clothes.  A white shirt had been rolled up, displaying his forearms and clinging to his chest.  Black trousers accented his hips, bunching slightly as the muscles in his legs flexed on his climb up the stairs.  As usual, his hair was a mess.  The deep blue eyes looked up at him in concern, glanced at the door, and then moved back to him.  The full lips moved.  “Oh.  I see.  I guess that’s probably upsetting for you, isn’t it?  The two of them together?”

            It took Dean a moment to register the words.  “Huh?  Uh, yeah, I mean, I knew, but…”  His eyes glanced at the door, then returned once more to Cass, watching the detective as he came closer.

            Cass gently put his hands on Dean’s shoulders, guiding him away from the door.  Dean allowed it.  Cass was speaking again, but Dean wasn’t hearing him.  The gravely voice was low, soothing.  He was acutely aware of the hands on his shoulders.  Beneath their touch, his skin tingled.  His mind was filled with the image of the two figures on the bed, their skin glistening with the sweat of sex.  The way Adam writhed in his lover’s grip.  How the muscles in Blake’s legs had worked as he pumped into Adam.  The sounds in the room, the smell…  Dean brought the pillow up, clenching it tightly against his chest.

            Cass realized that Dean wasn’t listening to him, but kept talking anyway.  He’d known there would likely be issues once Dean realized that Blake and Adam were lovers.  Cass had caught on almost immediately, just from the way Blake held Adam when they’d come for him and Dean.  But the sight of them together had apparently hit Dean hard.  “Here, sit down,” he urged, guiding Dean into a chair.  “Let me get you something to drink.”

            Dean sat.  Then a moment later he was up again, pacing like a caged beast.  His breath was fast, his face flushed, and his eyes stared off into space.  Cass’s heart ached in sympathy.  Dean was taking this hard.  Best not to leave him alone, then.  Cass stayed as he was, watching Dean pace about, and thought back through his counselor training.  Dean was obviously in shock.  He probably felt betrayed, perhaps even angry?  That would explain the flushed face, the way he clenched the pillow to his chest.  Blake, after all, was an undine, and Dean had been through so much at their hands lately!  He must believe that Blake was taking away the last thing he had left in his life.  Adam was Dean’s only constant, and why couldn’t Adam understand that?  Levine had no regard at all for his traumatized friend!  Cass felt again the flash of anger he’d felt when he’d heard Adam yell at Dean, order him out, throw a pillow at him for heaven’s sake!  He fully intended to have a long, stern conversation with Adam about respecting Dean’s feelings.  Maybe he’d have one with Blake, too.  It was not appropriate to initiate sex with Adam before Dean fully understood that it didn’t mean Adam’s feelings for him were in any way reduced.  But right now, Dean was priority.

            “Dean?” he called, careful to stay out of the way of the salamander’s mad pacing.  “I can only imagine what you must be feeling right now.  And you should know, whatever it is, it’s perfectly alright.  You’re a man with the same thoughts, feelings, and needs as any other man.  Whatever this triggered in you, it’s alright.  And you need to know that I’m here to help you through it.”

            Dean froze mid-step.  His green eyes were wide as he stared at Cass.

            Cass offered a comforting smile.  Of course.  Dean needed to hear that he wasn’t alone, that someone would help him.  Cass’s training as a counselor was coming in handy once more.  He spread his arms, displaying his empty hands to demonstrate his non-threatening status.  “I’m here for you, Dean.  Yes, I’m a cop, and I know you’ve always viewed us as enemies.  But right now, I’m just another man.  I can feel what you can.  I can help you through it.  You can come to me, use me whenever you need, alright?”

            “You…  I…”  Dean’s jaw worked.

            “I mean it.”  Cass dared to move closer, put a hand on Dean’s arm.  He smiled when Dean clutched it, staring like he’d never seen one before.  “I’m here, Dean.”

            One minute Cass was standing there.  And the next he was hanging upside-down, facing Dean’s broad back as Dean carried him up the stairs.  Alarmed, Cass clutched at the wall and strained to reach the banister, trying to find something to impede Dean’s progress.  “Dean!” he called.  “Put me down!  I’m not a threat to you, don’t hurt me!”

            “I won’t!”  Dean’s voice was gruff.  “Maybe a little?”

            Cass’s mind raced.  Obviously, despite his best efforts, Dean still viewed him as a threat.  He was, Cass belatedly realized, a double threat to Dean now, as both a cop and an elder.  Was this an attempt to strike out at both?  Or perhaps a form of revenge?  Blake had taken his friend away, now he would take Blake’s?  All Cass knew was that he was in a very precarious position.  He had to show Dean that he was in control if he hoped to end this peacefully.  Alright, then.  Cass stopped struggling, letting Dean carry him up the stairs, down the hall, and into one of the bedrooms.  There, Dean slammed the door and threw Cass roughly down onto the bed.

            Cass immediately raised himself up on his elbows.  He would have preferred to sit up and look the enraged salamander in the eye, but that could be interpreted as a show of dominance.  He needed to appear smaller than he was, to be non-threatening and compliant.  Only then did he have a chance to talk Dean down.  His situation was already bad enough.  Dean had locked the door and was coming back, straddling Cass and shoving him back down on the bed by his shoulders.  Cass swallowed anxiously.  Hostage situation.  He’d been trained for this.  “Talk to me,” he urged.  “You’re in control, Dean.  Tell me what you want?”

            Dean pressed him down, leaning close to his face.  “You.”

            Cass blinked in confusion.  “What?”

            And then Dean was kissing him.  Why was Dean kissing him again?  Cass had followed hostage protocol.  Why was Dean acting like this?  Dean’s hands were in motion, reaching under Cass’s shirt and sliding it up.  Surprised, Cass gasped.  As soon as his mouth was open, Dean’s tongue was inside, tasting him as he gently ground against Cass’s hip.  He had something hard in his pocket, was it a weapon?  No, it was…

            Oh.  _Oh!_

            Cass twisted his head, breaking the kiss, and blinked up at Dean in shock.  “You… want me?”

            “Shut up, Angel Eyes.”  Dean’s voice was husky.  And then he was kissing Cass again.

            Cass’s pulse skyrocketed.  This couldn’t be real!  He’d dreamed of this, of being with Dean, and now it was happening.  This time it wasn’t a trick.  Dean was here.  Dean wanted him!

            With a little cry of delight, Cass locked his arms around Dean, pulling him closer.  Dean’s hands were still exploring the muscles of his abdomen and chest.  His hips shifted slightly and then ground down, rubbing his stiffness against Cass.  In seconds, Cass was just as hard, so sensitive he whimpered.  He raised his arms, letting Dean pull his shirt off.  Then he flipped them both over, shifting so now he was straddling Dean and pulled off his shirt as well.

            Dean’s eyes went very wide.  He watched as Cass ran his hands over his chest and arms, the blue eyes seeming to drink him in.  “Dean,” he whispered.  “Where have you been?  I’ve been waiting for you, for so long!”

            A lump suddenly formed in Dean’s throat.  Speechless, he watched as Cass continued to worship his body, pulling off Dean’s jeans and then slipping out of his own.  Cass’s body was tightly muscled.  Dean knew he was stronger than he looked.  Now he handled Dean with ease, moving him further up onto the bed.  Cass kissed him again and then moved down, sucking and licking at his throat, his chest, moving to latch onto one nipple.  Dean was astonished.  He’d taken both the top and bottom roles in his life, but he’d expected to be top with Cass.  That didn’t seem to be the case.  Cass had never seemed like much of a leader outside the bedroom.  Inside, though, it was very different story.  Until now, Cass had been tentative with Dean, treating him like a fragile thing that might break.  Now certain of himself, Cass’s eyes were hungry.  His hands caressed even as they pushed and pulled at Dean, turning and positioning him as he pleased.  Dean relished it, yielding happily even as his own hands explored Cass, mapping his body for himself.  In truth, Dean had always preferred the more submissive role.  He was delighted, then, when Cass’s fingers locked in his hair, gently but firmly bringing Dean’s head down.

            When Dean licked at what he was presented with, Cass moaned out loud.  With a wicked grin, Dean licked again, tongue flicking at Cass’s slit.  He kept it up for a bit longer, enjoying the tease, until Cass’s hand tightened in his hair.  Then it was time to get serious.  Dean slid his lips up the shaft, taking Cass deep into the back of his throat until he had to fight his gag reflex before sliding back.  He repeated his action, working at his task, loving the way his lover’s free hand clutched at the sheets, delighting in his gasps.  This shouldn’t take long.  Dean knew he was good at this, conditioned by years of practice with random strangers.  But even during the short time he and Adam had been lovers, it had never been like this.  This time, it _mattered._   He wanted to please Cass, to give him his very best.  Above all, Dean wanted to show Cass what had been boiling over inside of him, held back and repressed and now finally set free.  Dean watched the changes in Cass’s face, noted the trembling tension in his body.  Cass was a beautiful man, never more so than now with the deep blue of his eyes nearly gone in his blown pupils.

            Dean reached back, squeezing Cass’s buttock with one hand while the other probed at Cass’s opening.  His finger gently worked its way inside, and expertly stroked at his prostate.  That earned him another moan.  The muscles were trembling now, Cass’s breath coming in panting gasps, his eyes fluttering closed as his head fell back.  Dean drew on his years of experience, all the one-night stands that meant nothing and he could barely remember coming together to help him pleasure this amazing man who had saved him, taken him in, and made him believe, just for a moment, that he was worth the price he still might pay.  Cass couldn’t last, but Dean didn’t care.  All he wanted was to please his lover, and if that meant finishing himself off in the shower while Cass lay wrecked on the bed, well, that was a victory in his book!

            But Cass once again surprised him.  Dean knew he was close, but suddenly, he took a deep breath and his eyes opened, boring into Dean’s.  Then he pulled back on Dean’s hair, pulling him away even as he pulled Dean’s fingers free.  Dean gave a sharp cry of disappointment.  Cass silenced it with a kiss.  He was taking control again, pushing Dean down with one hand while the other reached into the bedside stand.  The whole time, his tongue busily explored Dean’s mouth.

            Barely breaking the kiss enough to breathe, Cass managed the lube he’d found.  Lucky Grandma Esther had been so progressive in providing for her guests.  He refused to hurt this beautiful man.  Dean was exquisite, so skilled at giving head that he’d almost broken.  But as lovely as it would have been to feel his seed plunging down Dean’s throat, Cass refused to leave him unattended.  Besides, he wanted to be inside of him.  He gently pressed his lubed fingers into Dean, stretching him as he kissed and licked his way back down Dean’s neck and chest.  Dean was opening for him, gasping every time he brushed his prostate.  Cass continued down, licking around his lover’s navel until he reached Dean’s neglected cock.  Here he smiled.  Dean was skilled, but so was Cass.  And he’d always enjoyed oral sex.

            In moments Dean was cursing softly, thrashing about on the sheets, the green eyes rolling wildly.  Cass continued to work, alternating between quick, fast movements that had Dean moaning and teetering near the edge and slow, deep strokes of his tongue and lips.  He took Dean deep, tongue flicking out to lick at the balls, and suddenly Dean was trembling and gasping just as Cass himself had been a moment ago.  His hole was open and slick with lubricant.  He was ready.

            Cass pulled away long enough to slide on a condom.  Then he moved up, aligning himself.  “Look at me, my darling,” he whispered.  He waited until the green eyes locked with his own.  Then he rocked forward, sinking deep into Dean.  The result was everything he’d hoped for.  Dean cried out, cursing, clawing at Cass’s back.  When Cass drew back, Dean whimpered, only to cry out again as Cass sank into him once more.  His body shook, and Cass smiled.  He began moving vigorously, thrusting deep into this amazing man who lay thrashing beneath him, heedless of the nails that still dug at his back.  Lowering himself further onto Dean without breaking his rhythm, Cass dipped his head to whisper into his ear.  “You are worth dying for.  Worth losing everyone and everything I’ve ever known for!  I love you, Dean.  I love you like I’ve never loved anyone, and I would do anything, anything at all, to keep you here with me!”

            Dean gasped, clung to him.  Cass reached back, hooked one of Dean’s legs, and angled them both so he was stroking Dean’s prostate with every thrust.  Beneath him, Dean was coming undone.  “Come for me, Dean,” Cass encouraged.  “Come for me now.  Show me how beautiful you are when you let go!”

            The green eyes were moist as they looked up at him.  And then Dean shuddered, crying out through his release, and Cass soon followed.

            Cass gently cleaned them both up and switched off the light.  Then he lay down behind Dean and wrapped his arms around him, pulling the spent body of his lover close against him.  “I will love you forever,” he whispered.

            “I know,” Dean whispered back.  “I know you will, Cass.”

            He hadn’t said it back, but that was alright.  Cass didn’t need to hear it.  Dean, he knew, was strong and healthy again, but his heart still had a lot of healing to do.  “I will always be there for you,” he promised, tightening his arms around Dean.  “Any time you call, I will be there.  Forever.”

            Dean didn’t answer.  But his hand went over Cass’s and gently squeezed.  For now, that was enough.  Cass nuzzled into Dean’s hair, breathing in his scent even as he breathed out a prayer of thanks.  He couldn’t see the way Dean’s eyes stared blankly off into the darkness.

            With the man he loved in his arms, Cass fell into a deep, restful sleep.  The salamander’s happy laugh and shining green eyes filled his dreams.  In the early hours before dawn, when the comforting warmth slipped away, Cass frowned in his sleep, reaching for Dean.  But something soft was gently placed in his arms.  He held it tight, breathing in Dean’s scent, and his peaceful smile returned.  It remained on his face, even when a broken voice whispered in the darkness.

            _“I’m sorry.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're welcome.
> 
> Mr. Fun says he hates this chapter. Wants to know why Dean is sorry? “Oh, you silly, silly man, but just like a typical guy, gets laid and then leaves. Diiiiiick!”


	48. A Matter of Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake and Cass discover Dean's betrayal. Dean and Adam settle a disagreement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non-diegetic song for this chapter, provided by Jack, is "Just My Soul Responding" by Amber Run  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Uvbq0YPp8w&app=desktop

            The first thing Blake noticed when he woke up was a distinct, disturbing lack of Adam in his arms.  For some reason, he was clutching Adam’s pillow.  His face had been buried in it, breathing in Adam’s scent.  But Adam himself was missing.  Blake wasn’t worried.  Last night, the two of them had cuddled together, listening in amused satisfaction to the sounds coming from the other bedroom.  “About damned time,” Blake had whispered.

            “You have no idea,” Adam giggled.  He’d turned and snuggled into Blake’s chest, tucking his head under Blake’s chin.  And that was how they’d slept.  Now Adam was gone, but that was ok.  He’d probably gone to the bathroom, or maybe he was downstairs getting breakfast.

            Blake sat up, stretched, and yawned.  He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.  Then he got up, pulled on his jeans, and headed for the bathroom.  He was glad he’d packed his bags.  After breakfast, he’d shower and change, and then the four of them needed to talk about their plans.  After last night’s lovely distraction, Blake felt much clearer and calmer.  Together, they’d think of something.  Blake was sure of it.

            That lasted until he went downstairs, where he quickly discovered that Adam’s belongings were missing.

            Frowning, he checked the kitchen.  No Adam.  No sign that Adam had ever been there.  And Dean’s things were missing as well.

            _No._

            Blake raced back upstairs to knock on Cass’s door.  “Cass!  Dean?” he called.

            “Mmm?”  Muffled sounds from behind the door.  Blake could picture his partner rising, moving around the room.  And in the silence that followed, Blake knew without a doubt that Dean was missing as well.

            Gone.  They were gone.  Despite everything, they’d run away again.

            Blake staggered, moving backwards across the hall until the bare skin on his back reached the wall.  He slid down it, letting his body drop until he was seated with his back against the wall.  His eyes stared blankly at Cass’s door until it finally opened.

            Cass stood there, wearing only a pair of boxers.  He clutched a pillow in his arms.  His hair was a worse mess than usual, and his blue eyes were hollow and stricken.  When Blake beckoned him over with one hand, Cass moved like a zombie, sliding down the wall just as Blake had done to plop down beside him.  He clutched the pillow to his chest.

            Blake said nothing, letting his partner compose his thoughts.  Judging by the ache in his own chest, he could only imagine what the sylph was feeling.

            Cass lowered his face into the pillow and breathed deeply, taking in the lingering scent.  Then he straightened.  His eyes were moist as he gazed off into space.  “I don’t understand.  The four of us singing together, and then last night…?  Why did they run away?  I don’t understand, Blake!  The way they laughed, smiled, they seemed so happy!”

            “I think that right there was the problem, buddy.  Those two have been dragged from place to place all their lives.  They’ve never had a home, never had anyone else they could really count on, and never had a chance to have a real relationship with anyone but each other.  They were damned happy with us last night, and I think that terrified them.”

            “What?” Cass snapped bitterly.  “Being happy?  Being loved?”

            “Yeah.”  Blake slipped an arm around Cass’s shoulders, pulling the smaller man against him, and held him tight.

            Cass’s entire body was shaking.  His jaw worked.  “What could we have done differently, Blake?  Tell me!  I risked everything for Dean!  I rescued him, cared for him when was sick and smuggled him out of town.  I lost my grandmother when she tried to help.  I was willing to sacrifice my career, my life!  Blake, I told him that I loved him, that he had my heart like no one else ever did.  So tell me.  What else could I have done?  What could I have changed to make him stay, make him trust me?”

            “Nothing,” Blake said simply.  “That’s just it.  There was nothing either of us could do.  You can’t make someone trust, buddy.  That’s something they have to choose for themselves.”

****

            “Dammit, Adam, would you please snap out of it?”

            “Sure, Dean.  Let me just reach into my skull and remove my emotion chip.  There!  Oh wait, that didn’t actually work?  Well, fuck me!  It’s almost as if I cannot help the way I feel!”

            Dean ground his teeth.  When he’d slipped away from Cass well before sunrise this morning and roused his friend, Adam hadn’t said a word.  He’d followed Dean as he always had and always would, but it was clear he didn’t want to leave.  Together, they’d gathered their belongings, the randomizer, and a few other items and started out.  But the further they got, the more Adam slowed.  Finally, he’d been essentially trudging along with his head down, looking miserable.  Dean had tried continuing forward, hoping his friend would catch up.  But Adam simply moped along until Dean was finally forced to come back, take him by the wrist, and pull him along to get him to move faster.  Even then, Adam was a study in sullen, unwilling compliance.  He wouldn’t talk except for one-word answers or snarky remarks like he’d just done.  He’d refused to look up or quicken his pace on his own.  Now Dean’s arm ached from pulling him.  Irritated, he tightened his grip on Adam’s wrist and kept moving forward, all but dragging Adam along behind him.  

            “Stop dragging me,” Adam complained, twisting his wrist in Dean’s grip.  “I don’t want to go, Dean!  Why’d you take me away?  I was happy!  We both were!”

            Dean kept moving, straining to keep patient.  He’d known Adam would kick up a fuss sooner or later.  Apparently, it was going to happen now.  “Look,” he began.  “When we get somewhere safe where we can hole up, you can cry on my shoulder and miss your sexy detective all you want.  But dammit, we need to keep moving!  If those two cops and their asshole undine buddies don’t find us, Crowley’s cronies will!  I won’t stand back and let us get drowned, and I refuse to let Crowley make you his successor and trap you in this fucking town.  Now come _on,_ Adam!”  He jerked hard on his friend’s arm.

            Adam stumbled forward.  He scowled, trying to pull free.  “Quit it!  Stop dragging me, Dean!”

            “I wouldn’t have to drag you if you’d just keep moving!”  Dean emphasized his words by abruptly quickening his pace.

            Once again, Adam stumbled.  Growling, he dug in his heels, prying at Dean’s fingers.  “Dammit, let go!  If you don’t stop dragging me, I’m going to punch you right in the face!”

            Dean suddenly decided he’d had enough.  Dropping his pack, he whirled on his friend, grabbed Adam’s arms, and slammed him back against the closest tree.  “You need to get your fucking head back in the game!” he snapped as Adam yelped.  “I get that you feel all sorts of ways about that damned cop, but that’s what he is!  An _undine_ cop!”  He emphasized the word by pulling Adam slightly forward and slamming him back against the tree again, producing another small cry of pain.  “You gotta remember that, buddy.  No matter how hot they are, how nice they were to us, or whatever else you’re feeling now, one’s an undine, the other is an elder, they’re both cops, and we cannot trust either one of them!  They already arrested us once.  They’ll do it again!  They’ll turn on us, Adam, especially if it comes down to us or them.  They’ll throw us to Carson and Crowley in a heartbeat to save their own skins.  We can’t rely on anyone but ourselves!”

            Adam was thrashing.  “Take your fucking hands off of me, Dean!”

            “Dammit, Adam I do not have time for this!  You know, I stole those runed handcuffs from Novak’s coat,” Dean warned.  “Do not make me use them on you!”

            Adam sneered.  “Like father, like son!”

            Dean flinched as though slapped.  “Excuse me?!”

            “He kidnapped me, knocked me around to make me listen to him, and chained me up to make me stay with him, Dean.  Now you’re going to do the same thing?  Fuck you!”

            Dean’s expression went blank for a moment as all the color drained from his face.  But then he flushed in anger.  “You son of a bitch!  What the hell is your problem?”

            “No, what the hell is _your_ problem?” Adam spat.  “We had a good thing back there, Dean!  Those two cops risked everything to help us, to help _you!_   It’s not my fault you’re too damned stupid to accept it!  I never should have let you pull me out of Blake’s bed…”

            Dean rolled his eyes.  “Is that what this is about?  You’re acting like this because I pulled you out of his bed?  Damn, Adam!  Are you that desperate for a fuck?”

            “Oh, go to hell!  Blake was more than that!  And if you’re really going to try to say Cass was just a good lay for you, I’ll laugh right in your face and call you out for being a liar.  Those two cared about us, Dean!  And you were happy with Cass.  You fucking know you were!  What the hell is wrong with you, that you just cannot accept the fact that someone might actually love you?  What we had back there with them was the best damned thing we’ve ever had in our lives, and I never should have let you take me away from it!  Well, mistake realized, and now I’m correcting it.  We’re going back, Dean, and if you try to say no, I swear…!”

            “You swear what?”  Dean’s face was suddenly inches away from Adam’s.  “What are you going to do?”

            Adam narrowed his eyes.  “You need to get the hell out of my face, asshole!”

            “Make me, bitch!”

            Adam won himself some room with a roundhouse left that sent Dean staggering back.  Dean snarled and dove onto the other salamander.  The two rolled around, unleashing all of their pent-up emotions into a series of furious punches, kicks, and head butts.  It was several wild minutes of mutual pummeling before Dean finally managed to get on top of Adam and pin his flailing hands.

            Adam kicked furiously.  “Get off of me, Dean!  Get off!”

            “Calm down!”

            “Fuck you!  Let me up!”

            “Adam, listen to me!  You’ve got every piece of brush and half the trees around us smoldering!  It’s all I can do right now to keep this whole clearing from going up in flames, alright?  Now calm the fuck down!”

            Adam’s chest was heaving with effort.  But the hazel eyes closed, and his breathing almost immediately slowed.  Dean could feel it right away when Adam’s power was tamped back.  Beneath him, the other salamander’s body lost most of its tension.  “There you go,” Dean encouraged.  “You ok?”

            “Fuck you, Dean.”

            “I’ll take that as a yes.”

            “Whatever, just let me up.”

            Dean got up and helped Adam to his feet.  Both of them brushed off the bits of dirt and debris they’d accumulated during their fight, wincing at the new assortment of bruises.  Then they both froze.  In the distance, the sound of an approaching helicopter could be heard.

            “Could have nothing at all to do with us?” Adam suggested.

            “Or it could be a bear in the air, coming to check out this smoke,” Dean groaned, looking with trepidation at the smoke.

            Adam eyed the helicopter, noting the markings.  “Shit, you’re right.  Come on!”

            The two salamanders grabbed their bags and started running.  But the helicopter was steadily growing closer.  Adam searched frantically, and pointed to the right.  “There!”

            “I see it, get in!”

            They bolted to the right, where a dense bit of scrub partially obscured a hollow beneath an overhang.  Reaching it, the two quickly scrambled in.  There was barely enough room to fit.  The two friends clung to each other, both of them panting from their run, and hoped that their scant cover, combined with their dark jackets, would be enough to hide them.

            The helicopter turned lazy circles in the sky above, clearly interested in the dissipating smoke they’d left behind.  Then it moved off.

            As soon as it was gone, they climbed out.  “Come on,” Dean said.  “We gotta get the hell away before they come back or more people show up.”

            But Adam wouldn’t move.  “No, Dean.  We’re going back.  Those were state boys in that helicopter, and that means it’s one hell of a big manhunt going on.  What if they go after Blake and Cass?  They are in just as much danger as we are!  You know Daly is going to catch on to Blake, and he’s already after Cass.”  He narrowed his eyes, watching his friend.  “You do know it!  Just like you knew that they wouldn’t be any more likely to give me to Crowley than you would.  What is it, Dean?  What’s really going on?  Why did we just run away?”

            “Adam, we have to go!”

            “No.  We are going back, Dean.  I don’t care if I have to drag you every step of the way, but we’re going back!”

            “No, we can’t!” Dean exclaimed.

            “Why not?  What the fuck happened that’s got you so bent out of shape?”

            Dean was so pale his freckles stood out in sharp relief.  The green eyes looked anywhere but at Adam.  Adam grabbed his friend’s shoulders and gave him a shake.  “Tell me!”

            Dean seemed to wilt.  “I had a bad dream,” he confessed.  “I was back at the falls, chained up at the edge of the water, and they were going to drag me back in again.  I don’t know where you were, but I looked over and saw Cass.  He was standing at that stake at the falls, with his hands cuffed to that ring and wood piled around the stake, looking at me.  He wasn’t begging or anything.  He just said, ‘Dean, I’m sorry.’  And then they lit him up.  I couldn’t do anything to stop it, Adam.  He was screaming, dying in the flames, and there was nothing, nothing I could do.  And even when they started dragging me into the water, it wasn’t nearly as bad as hearing him scream.”

            “Dean?”  Adam shook him.  “What the hell happened last night?”

            “He told me he loved me, Adam.  He said I was worth dying for.  But I’m not!  If I stayed with him, he’d end up at that stake.  But if we left, then he could say I forced him, threatened him, held him captive!  He’s got a chance without me…”

            “Dean, I swear, you’re the biggest fucking idiot I have ever met in my entire life!”

            Dean blinked.  “Huh?”

            “He loves you, dumbass!  He’s never going to turn on you like that!  And somewhere inside of you, buried underneath all your bullshit, part of you knows that.  The truth is, getting taken to that stake is pretty much the only way Cass Novak is ever going to leave you, Dean.  But you never gave him the chance to prove it.  Instead, you decided he was going to use you and then throw you away, just like everyone else.  So you left him before he could leave you.  But he’s different, isn’t he?  They both are!  Because for the first time in our lives, we’ve got two people who know exactly who and what we are, and they still love us.  We don’t have to run anymore, Dean.”

            “Y-you want to stay with them?  Adam, we can’t!”

            “Why the hell not?  Because John said we have to keep moving?  John was a bastard and a liar and I’m sick of living my life the way he taught us!” Adam roared.  “I love Blake!  I love him, alright?  Maybe you don’t love Cass yet, but you sure as fuck are getting there fast, and you know what?  That’s the best thing that could happen to you!  That guy is going to stay with you, fight and if necessary die for you because he loves you despite all the shit you pulled.  And dammit, Dean, love is worth fighting for!”

            “If I stay with him, he could die!”

            “Then don’t you dare leave him to face his death alone!”

            Silence.  Dean stood as he processed what Adam had said.

            Adam picked up Dean’s pack and shoved it at him.  Shouldering his own pack, he took Dean’s arm and started walking.  “We’re going back,” he announced.  “What we have with them is worth fighting for.”

            “What if they don’t want us?” Dean asked quietly.

            “That’s a chance we’re going to have to take.”

            The two walked in silence for some time, retracing their steps.  The trip back was considerably faster than the trip out had been, especially since Adam didn’t have to drag Dean the way he’d dragged Adam.  Dean was still pale, but his steps were light, almost eager.  What Adam had said made sense.  Dean was terrified to face Cass, to face the rejection he’d surely receive after once again betraying his trust.  But the thought of seeing Cass again was enough to spring his steps.

            By the time the house was in sight, Dean’s stomach was full of butterflies.  He was trying to compose what he’d say, imaging various scenarios in his head and how they might play out when Adam suddenly grabbed his arm and jerked him down.  Surprised, Dean looked up.

            The house was swarming with cops.  The Undine himself was at the front, speaking with a few of his men.  And there, being led out in handcuffs, were Blake and Cass.

            Dean’s heart caught in his throat at the sight of Cass.  His nightmare was about to come true.  “They’re going to take them to the falls!  But how can they arrest them?” he whispered.  “Blake’s a successor, and Cass is an elder!  He’s untouchable!”

            “I don’t know, and I don’t give a shit,” Adam hissed.  “All I know is we gotta help them!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun says Dean was being a complete douche bag. He was running for all the wrong reasons instead of just manning up and dealing with his feelings. Yelled “Flame on, Johnny!” at the end of the chapter. Said they should start blowing up cop cars to create a distraction because they’re already fugitives. They can only kill them once.


	49. Firestorm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake and Cass face Final Justice

            In retrospect, Blake supposed they’d both lingered at the house until well after noon because neither was willing to admit that Dean and Adam weren’t coming back.  It was a costly mistake.  The two had showered and dressed, barely said a word as they’d forced themselves to eat, and then silently worked to pull up the carpeting and remove the irreparably damaged items in the living room.  The work gave them something to do as each took comfort from the others’ presence while dealing with his own private pain.  Looking back, Blake could spot every mistake they’d made.  They’d left both Cass’s Prius and his own truck right out in the driveway.  They’d left the lights on.  They’d walked carelessly outside, moving back and forth between the house and the curb with the items they’d removed.  Any or all of the careless mistakes could have resulted in someone becoming suspicious and calling the police.  But in the end, the worst mistake they’d made was that they hadn’t kept watch.  They had no idea that the house was surrounded until it was suddenly filled with people.

            Blake had been on his hands and knees in the living room with a scrub brush, scrubbing away at the blackened stains.  Cass was about to take the next bag of trash out to the curb when the first riot-suited man crashed through the window, immediately transformed into water, and dove onto Cass.  Taken completely by surprise, Cass was thrown down to the ground.  He gasped when the runed cuff closed on his wrist.  Blake had time to yell once before three more figures dove through the window and pounced on him.  The undine cuffs immediately sapped his energy.  They felt somehow rough on his wrists, even though he could twist around and see they were smooth metal.  Roaring, Blake managed his knees, throwing off his captors for a moment before Carson, returning to human form, dove onto him.  Blake went backwards, Carson’s knee on his chest.  “Dammit, Blake!” Carson snapped.  “Don’t make this worse!  Cass, stop resisting!”

            Cass, it appeared, had no intention of stopping.  He’d managed to keep one hand free and was busy fighting the members of the Elemental Falls Police Department.  The sylph cuffs may have prevented him from using his powers, but Blake was secretly glad to see that Cass wasn’t going down easy.  He was a blur, fists and feet flying, sending his former coworkers into the walls and floor.  No one could get near him.

            Inspired, Blake kicked viciously and managed to throw Carson off.  Blake rolled over, trying to get to his feet.  But then pain sizzled through his nerves.  Carson, it seemed, was done playing.  Red-faced and furious, he quickly moved to Cass.  Cass was down to two attackers.  Carson waited, watched until the detective was being pressed by both at once, and then ducked in, shoving the taser he’d just used on Blake against the side of Cass’s neck.

            Blake managed to regain control in time to see Cass crumble.  “You can’t do that!” he yelled, seeing the undine cops dragging Cass’s arms back to cuff him.  “He’s Sylph!  He’s an elder, take your hands off of him!”

            “Don’t be absurd,” Carson snapped as his men hesitated.  “His sister is Sylph.”

            “Bullshit!  Esther named him right before you murdered her, Carson!  You know that because he was kicking your ass until you turned on Dean and he had to run to save him!”

            “You’re a murderer!” Cass grunted, still struggling.  “You murdered my grandmother, and before that you murdered Salamander and Undine!  Now you’re murdering me?  Go to hell!  Let Blake go, he’s got nothing to do with this!”

            “Damn,” Jenkins groaned, picking himself off of the floor.  “Those two salamanders really did a number on you, didn’t they, Novak?  You were always gullible, but you too, Blake?”

            “Check some facts!” Blake spat.  “Stop being so damned stubborn and blindly being loyal and following tradition!  There is something _wrong_ with Carson and Crowley both!  Don’t you see that?”

            But even as he spoke, Blake knew it was hopeless.  He needed only to look at the example of his own failed marriage to see proof of how difficult it was to convince undines.

            Cass still hadn’t stopped fighting.  Carson had to hit him with the taser a second time before the battered police officers could get leg irons on the furious sylph.  Blake was pleased and proud to see that Cass had knocked down every man and woman on the force.  But now it was costing him.  He was surrounded by furious bleeding and bruised undines, all busy punching and kicking the helpless detective.

            “Get off of him!” Blake yelled.  “Carson, stop this!”

            “It hurts me too, Blake, seeing him brought down,” Carson replied.  His face was stern as he pulled Blake to his feet.  “But he attacked me, too.  And I’m even sadder to see that you cannot accept what has to happen, that you’ve turned your back on your fellow undines!  Why, Blake?  I know you were lonely, but you were my successor!  How could you betray me like this?”

            “Shut up, Carson!  Or do you prefer Lucifer?”

            Carson sighed, shook his head, and gestured to the other officers.  “Enough.  Get him up.”  He waited until his men had dragged a battered, bloody Cass to his feet.  Then he turned again to Blake.  “Blake Shelton, in the presence of these witnesses, I renounce you as my successor.  And I have no idea who to choose instead.  I loved you like a brother, Blake.  I loved _both_ of you!  Carson’s Angels, the stars of the Elemental Falls Police Department!  I helped you both on your careers, stood next to you through your triumphs and backed you up on every mistake!  I wanted you both at my side when I became Lead Elder, but now?  Now you’re both facing Final Justice!”

            “No!” Cass yelled.  “I know you’re going to burn me, but Blake…!”

            A hard punch to his diaphragm knocked the wind out of him.

            “Stop hitting him!” Carson ordered.  “Those two salamanders are still out there somewhere.  I’ve spread the word among our helpers that they’re to be found and monitored, but not engaged.  The locals know enough about this town to listen, but I have no idea what the state boys will do.  Apparently, they found some suspicious smoke and went to check it out.  Once we’re done here, we can get back to searching.  We need to find those two and get Levine, at least, back to Salamander.”

            “What about Dean?” Cass managed.

            Carson’s face darkened.  “We’ll see what happens when he’s arrested.  Crowley’s already raised a fuss for Levine being his successor, but as far as I’m concerned, Winchester’s fate is in his own hands.”  He gestured again to his undines.  “Let’s get this over with.  Get them into the cars and we’ll meet at the falls.”

            Blake didn’t resist when he was led out to the cruiser that would take him to his death.  He didn’t see a point.  Even Cass had finally stopped fighting.  Hampered by the leg irons, he was half-dragged into the cruiser and roughly thrown in next to Blake.  “He’s Sylph,” Blake tried without hope.  “Let him out of those sylph cuffs for a moment and he can prove it!”

            “Great idea!  Let a rogue sylph use his powers so he can disappear on us!”

            Blake scoffed.  “Scared he’ll kick your ass some more, Miller?”

            “Shut up, Shelton.  We all believed in you, you son of a bitch!  We were ready to follow you as the next Undine, and you turned on all of us!  For what?  Those two pretty salamander boys really that good of a fuck?”

            Blake refused to dignify that with a response.  Next to him, Cass was slumped.  He looked somehow naked without his familiar trench coat.  Blake considered asking someone to heal his battered partner, but knew his request would likely be refused.  Blake shifted slightly.  “Cass?” he said softly.  “Talk to me, buddy.  You ok?”

            “Blake, do I appear to be ok in any sense of the word?” Cass mumbled.  He was slumped in the seat.  “I feel like the cuffs are burning me!”

            “They’re not,” Blake reassured.  “They’re reacting to you because you’re a sylph.  I feel like mine are real heavy and rough for the same reason.”

            “I’m aware,” Cass replied.  “But that doesn’t change it.”

            Sea blue eyes met sky blue eyes.  Blake swallowed hard.  “Cass…?”

            “Blake, you don’t have to say it.  I already know.  Thank you, and I’m sorry you got dragged into this.  But I’m not sorry I saved him.  I’m not sorry for any of that.”

            “Me either, buddy.”

            Cass went quiet after that.  Blake sank back into his seat.  His eyes constantly scanned the windows as they made the short trip to the falls, and hoping and praying for any sign of Adam or Dean.  But there was nothing.  They reached the falls unmolested, and Blake’s heart sank as he and Cass were pulled from the cruiser.  Cass, he’d noticed, hadn’t even looked.

            Well, Blake reasoned, to be honest, what could the salamanders have done?  Blake and Cass were surrounded by undines, including the Undine himself.  Dean and Adam wouldn’t have stood a chance.  At least this way, he told himself, the two had a chance to escape on their own.  It would have to be enough.

            He wasn’t surprised to find that things at the falls had already been set up.  A few undines who weren’t part of the police were already there.  The stoning ground had a short length of chain threaded through the iron ring at the center.  A second short length of chain was hanging from the ring at the top of the stake.  Firewood had been stacked carefully around the base of the stake, and a lit torch waited in the nearby holder.  Blake swallowed hard and glanced at his partner as the two were separated and led towards their fates.  His own fear was mirrored there in Cass’s pale face.  His lips were moving, as if in silent prayer.  That made sense.  Blake was praying himself.  He didn’t pray for rescue, as he had no hope of that.  At this point, Blake wanted to die well, and for one of those here to find the truth, expose Carson for what he really was.  He prayed that Cass’s moment of pain would be brief, and that Dean would someday find the courage to let someone love him.  But most of all, he prayed for Adam.  _Please, let him be safe.  Let him be somewhere far away from this, where he can live in peace!_

            Even with the undine cuffs, crossing the line of wards that surrounded the stoning ground was a jolt.  Blake felt his shoulders sag as if buried under an unseen weight.  The two undines on either side of him were cursing, feeling the effects of the wards as they fastened Blake’s cuffs to the chain at the ring in the center of the stoning grounds.  “That’s why pygmies are supposed to do this,” Blake reminded bitterly.  “And salamanders usually tend to the sylphs!  Why aren’t they involved, Carson?  Don’t want them to know your dirty deeds here today?”

            Carson ignored him.  His eyes were on Cass.

            Cass had been dragged up to the stake.  He didn’t resist, but the undines were taking no chances.  They surrounded Cass, nearly tripping over each other as they cautiously uncuffed one of his hands long enough to re-fasten his hands in front of him.  Then they attached his cuffs to the chain on the ring, pulling it so tight Cass was practically on tiptoe.  Cass simply allowed it.  His blue eyes were locked with the other elder’s.  The undines cautiously undid the restraints on his legs, obviously expecting to be kicked.  But Cass didn’t move.  He stood as he was, swaying slightly on the end of the chain, and continued the silent staring contest with Carson even when the undines jumped down.  The air was filled with the pungent aroma of the igniting fluid that had been poured on the wood under the stake.

            Blake felt sick.  “Don’t do this, Carson!  For the love of God, that’s _Cass_ up there!  You know Cass, Carson!  You know he’s a good man, and you know damned well he’s Sylph!  That’s why you slapped those cuffs on him first thing, so he couldn’t go full elemental and prove it.  You do this, if you burn him?  Then you’ve willfully and knowingly murdered another elder, and you’ve implicated everyone else here!  You monster, you’re risking an elemental war!”

            Carson tore his eyes away from the man he was all too aware was Sylph just long enough to look disdainfully at Blake.  Then he turned back to his men.  “Start with Cass, get that done.  Then we’ll finish with Blake.”

            To their credit, all of the undines looked uneasy.  Most of them looked as sick as Blake felt, swallowing hard as they looked at Blake and Cass.  They exchanged glances with each other, and Blake understood.  They’d worked and lived side by side with him and Cass for years now.  No one wanted to be the one to pick up the torch and light the fire under Cass, see this man they knew so well burn alive.  Blake suspected they’d have trouble when it came time to stone him, as well.

            But Carson, it seemed, had no such qualms.  Frowning, the Undine moved forward and picked up the torch.  Cass, white-faced, couldn’t keep himself from trying to step away as the torch approached.  His eyes moved to Blake.  “Blake?” he called.  “I’m sorry.”

            “Cass!”  Blake struggled, pulling hard against the chain and cuffs that held him.  “Don’t do this, Carson!  _Cass!”_

            Without hesitating, Carson tossed the torch onto the pyre.

            The flames rose up immediately.  Blake screamed, horrified as Cass cried out and tried to move away from the flames.  The flames flared up impossibly high, mercifully hiding Cass from sight.  Blake screamed his name, falling to his knees.

            Then the flames roared, and shot out with an explosive force that flattened the undines around the stake.

            Blake ducked instinctively.  And suddenly he felt hands at his wrists, fumbling to remove the cuffs.  “Heya, sexy,” Adam whispered into his ear.  “You miss me?”

            Blake blinked at Adam, and then jerked back towards the stake.  Even undines could be burned by a salamander if they were caught unsuspecting, and that was precisely what had happened.  Red, blistered skin and scorched hair and clothing abounded among the undines.  Even Carson’s perfectly-styled hair had been singed.  He was up on his feet, looking with cold fury up at the stake where Dean was freeing Cass.  The salamander pressed close to the sylph, protecting him from the flames.  Cass appeared completely unharmed despite standing, wild-eyed, among the flames.  Blake shook his head.  “Should have known you two would steal both keys!  Is Cass…?”

            “Don’t worry,” Adam assured.  “No one has more control over fire than Dean Winchester.  Now come on, we got a fight on our hands!”  He raised his voice.  “Hey, undines!  Suck my cock!”

            A second explosion knocked the undines, most of whom had just started getting to their feet, back down once again.  Dean swore.  “Warn me, asshole!” he yelled as he threw his arm around Cass and raced down the metal steps.

            “Surprise is the point, dickhead!  Now move your ass!  Cass, you ok?”

            Cass nodded.  “Get behind me,” he ordered.  Then he turned to face the undines.

            Blake and Adam raced to join the other two.  Dean seemed reluctant to let go.  His hand was still on Cass’s shoulder as the Sylph once again locked eyes with Carson.  Blake couldn’t recall a time when he’d ever seen the other detective look so furious.  “Undine!” Cass barked.  Then he shifted to full elemental form.

            Immediately, the area around the falls was full of gale-force winds.  They scattered the burning timbers of the pyre and lashed at the Undine, pelting him with debris.  “You tried to kill me!”  Cass’s voice echoed from the winds.  “You tried to kill us both!”

            “I didn’t fucking know you were really Sylph!”  Undine had shifted to full elemental form as well.  He created a shielding wall of ice, placing it between Cass and himself as he stood before the other undines.  “You were both facing Final Justice!  Shelton would have said anything!”

            “You lying sack of shit!” Adam yelled.  His powerful flames battered against the ice.  Water streamed and hissed, turning into steam.

            “You attacked another elder, Carson!” Blake added.  “You had everyone here involved in the burning of a current seated Sylph!  Every single man and woman here today could be facing Final Justice!”

            “Bullshit!”  Undine’s wall was cracking and falling apart.  His face twisted with the strain of keeping it in place.  “You want revenge on me, Sylph?  Here I am!  But don’t you dare attack my men!  Let my people go, and you can do whatever you want with me!”

            Blake swore.  It was a master stroke, one that was perfectly in character for the Carson Daly he knew.  Chief Daly was well known for always looking after his men.  And he’d positioned himself in front of the other undines, set himself up to appear to be protecting them rather than fighting with Cass!  Until he’d learned the truth, Blake would have gladly stood at Daly’s side at this moment.  The Undine appeared to be every bit the shining hero cop Blake had always believed him to be. 

            It worked.  With a rallying shout, the other undines were at their elder’s side, adding their own powers to his.  The wall grew strong once again, the ice growing sharp spikes that were quickly growing forward to menace Blake and his friends.  Blake and Dean added their efforts to Cass and Adam's, but it wasn’t enough.  All four were straining now.  Blake’s mind raced, trying to come up with something, anything!

            And then another wall appeared between the two groups, this one made of solid rock.  “Balls!  What the hell are you idjits trying to do, kill each other?!  Knock that shit off before I knock all of your thick skulls together!”

            “Dammit, Bobby!” Dean yelled.  “What the hell took you so long?  We told you it was an emergency!”

            “Holy shit, Dean, I was at home, clear across town!  Pygmies may be the fastest elementals when we travel through the earth, but even we have our limits!”  Bobby stomped his way up to the wall.  “Undine, what the hell are you doing?”

            “This doesn’t concern you, Pygmy!”

            “Pygmy, welcome,” Sylph called.

            “Pygmy?”  Adam and Dean exchanged incredulous glances.

            “You knew?” Undine yelled from behind the wall.  “Pygmy, you knew all along they were both salamanders!  You knew them personally!”

            “Yeah, I know a lot of people personally, what’s your point?”

            Dean and Adam were still gawking at Pygmy.  Blake, who had moved to heal Cass, noticed and smirked.  “You two obviously know him, but you didn’t know he was an elder?”

            “No!” Adam exclaimed.  “When the hell were you planning to tell us this, Singer?”

            “Yeah, seriously, Bobby!” Dean added.  “Who was stupid enough to make you an elder?”

            Bobby scowled at him.

            “We brought Blake and Cass out here to perform Final Justice after Cass interfered with Winchester,” Undine explained calmly from behind Bobby’s wall.  “We had no idea he was Sylph!  I thought Anna Novak…”

            “I knew he was Sylph!” Bobby spat.  “If you’d have called me like you should have done when you grabbed those two, I would have told you that!  Sylph called me and told me she’d changed her successor just before she was…”  The gruff elder suddenly paused, swallowing hard.

            “I am sorry about Sylph,” Undine said.  “I know you two were close.”

            “You were?”  Cass blinked in surprise.  “Wait, Singer, were you _dating_ my grandmother?!”

            That earned another glare.  “None of yer damned business!”

            “Dude!” Dean laughed.  “She must have been at least twenty years older than you are!  You sly dog!”

            “Dean?  Shut up!  Now I don’t give a shit what happened before I got here.  It’s over now!  You four get in one of those cop cars and get the hell out of here!  Sylph, congratulations.  Sorry about your grandmother.  And here.  I believe this belongs to you now.”

            Cass nodded, accepting the golden sylph pin.  “Thank you.”

            Singer sniffed once.  Then he stomped back behind the wall.  “Undine?  Let’s talk about this bad habit you seem to have developed of dragging people out to these falls without going through proper channels!”

            As Singer began to bawl out the Undine right in front of his men, Dean and Adam ran for their packs.  Then Blake gathered his little group and herded everyone into the closest cruiser.  He could still hear Bobby yelling as they quickly pulled away.

            “Thank you,” Blake called, glancing in the rearview mirror at the two suddenly-subdued salamanders in the back seat.

            Dean and Adam exchanged a look.  “We’re sorry,” Adam began.

            “More specifically, I’m sorry,” Dean said.  “Blake, Adam didn’t want to leave you.  I made him go, ok?  And Cass, I know I hurt you again.  This time, you almost died for it.  We came back, saw Daly taking the two of you away and knew you were going to the falls.  We barely had enough time to call Bobby and take turns using our fire trail to get out there, and it was almost too late!  You were both already chained up when we got there.”

            “Then you used your fire trails to get to us once Carson lit the pyre,” Blake finished.

            Both heads nodded in unison in the back seat.  “I fucked up, Cass,” Dean continued.  “And I get it if you can’t forgive me.  I won’t leave Adam, I can’t, and I know he wants to stay with Blake.  But I can tell you that I’ll do my best to stay out of your life.  I’ll try to make sure you never have to see me again.”

            Cass had been still and quiet since they’d gotten into the car.  But now he spoke.  “Pull over.”

            Blake immediately pulled over, and Cass got out.  He walked around to Adam’s door, opened it, and gestured for Adam to get out.  The two exchanged places, Adam getting into the front passenger seat, and Blake started off again.

            “Dean?” Cass began.  “I understand why you did what you did.  All your life, you have had exactly two constants in your life – your pretty, shiny car, and Adam.  Everything and everyone else has just passed through.  Your dad saw you as a means to an end, your mother abandoned you, and even your brother turned his back on you.  So it terrified you when I told you that I loved you, that I’d never leave you.  You couldn’t imagine that it could be true, but you desperately wanted it.  And that’s why you ran.  You tried to abandon me before I could abandon you.”

            Dean’s jaw was in danger of hitting the floor.

            Cass reached for Dean’s hand, lacing his fingers through Dean’s.  “You don’t have to run anymore.  You don’t have to be alone, and you don’t have to apologize because you have nothing to be sorry for.  I understand.  You’ve got a lot of healing to do, and I accept that, if you’ll only accept me?”

            Dean closed his mouth with a snap.  His jaw worked, his green eyes wide and moist as he stared at Cass.  Then he simply nodded and squeezed Cass’s hand.  He fumbled in his pack and handed over something light-colored.  “I shouldn’t have taken it,” he confessed.  “I had no right.  But I wanted something of yours.”

            Cass accepted the trench coat with a smile.  “Thank you,” he said, shrugging into it.

            Dean smiled.

            Adam cleared his throat.  “Do you think Bobby will be alright back there alone?”

            “Pygmy has nothing to fear from the undines,” Blake declared.  “They’ve got a douchebag for a leader, but they’re good people that I’ve known and worked with for years.  They’d never stand for Carson attacking Pygmy.  But that doesn’t mean Pygmy shouldn’t be careful.  He humiliated Carson in front of his own people and let the four of us slip through his fingers.  Carson’s going to see he pays for it if he gets the chance.”

            “So what’s the plan?” Cass asked, tearing his eyes away from Dean.  “Where are we going, Blake?”

            “Purgatory,” Blake explained.  “We’re going to see Crowley.”

            Shouts filled the car.  “Crowley isn’t going to fall in line!” Adam insisted.  “We’ve got Cass, and we can probably convince Bobby to help us, but you’ll still need Crowley to censure Carson.  But Crowley won’t do it unless you can convince him that Carson won’t be able to retaliate!  Even if he’s not Undine, he’s still Lucifer!”

            “And that’s why we need Sammy,” Blake declared.  “Sammy’s the key to this whole thing, and Crowley’s the last one to see him.  And I’ve got a hunch that Sammy never really left on his own.  Crowley did something to him, y’all!  Sammy needs our help, and we’re going to help him.”

            “But if you take Adam to Purgatory, Crowley won’t let him leave!” Dean exclaimed.  “He needs Adam as his successor!”

            “I know,” Blake sighed.  “He wants you both!  I don’t think he’ll let either one of you leave, once he gets his hands on you.  And I’m sorry, boys, but that’s got to happen.  The two of you are the only things that Crowley wants badly enough to give up Sammy.  So we’ve got to let him have you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun really wants to see these four take on Crowley and his goons. Made a lot of noise when Cass faced off with Carson, and more noise when the rock wall went up. Wants everyone to know that he called Bobby being Pygmy a long time ago. **GOLD STAR** for Mr. Fun!


	50. The Adventures of Moose and Squirrel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley allows Dean to visit with Sam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non-Diegetic song here, main theme for Dean and Sam in this piece, is "Brother" by Kodaline, suggested by Jack!  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OROYzJs2Ksc

            The green eyes were fixed on a spot on the floor.  Agent Sam Winchester was back in his corner, legs folded up and lying to the side and his arms crossed over his chest.  He had, Crowley noted, done a good job of cleaning up the mess he’d made during his abortive attempt to dig through the walls and ceiling of his cell.  The sycophants Crowley had assigned to look after the agent had reported that he’d even asked them for a broom and put it to use.  The furniture was back in place.  The only exception was the bed.  Apparently, the agent had damaged the frame too much to be able to put the bed back together.  The frame lay jumbled in a pile in one corner, but the mattress had been neatly made.  Crowley was content to let him lie in the bed he’d made, literally and figuratively, for now.  Assuming the agent continued to behave himself, a comfortable new bed could be provided later as a reward.  The big moose had even been speaking politely with his guards!  It was definite progress.  Crowley wasn’t stupid enough to think that the agent had given up, though.  Sammy was more than likely taking another page from the FBI’s hostage playbook.  Having realized he couldn’t get out on his own, the agent was now taking on the role of the submissive prisoner, obeying the orders he was given and offering no resistance.  The objective would be to prevent further harm or restrictions, gain the trust of the captors, and gain more freedom and favor.

            Crowley shook his head as he watched the monitor.  “How long has he been there?”

            “Since shortly after lunch,” the guard reported.  “He spent all morning cleaning, got a shower, ate his lunch, and went to his corner.  Hasn’t moved since.”

            “Good.”  The agent, Crowley mused, likely knew that there were cameras hidden in the cell.  But even if he was just putting on a show, it made controlling him that much easier.  If Sammy was going to follow orders, well, that could only benefit Crowley.  He straightened, flicked some debris off of his sleeve, and smiled.  “Showtime!”  He picked up a length of rope and went into the cell.

            Sam looked up when Crowley entered.  His gaze lingered on the rope in Crowley’s hand for a moment, moved back up to the salamander’s face, and then returned to staring at the floor.  The only changes were a slight tensing of his jaw, and the way his hands had clenched into loose fists.  “Don’t hurt me,” he said softly.  “I’m not resisting.”

            Crowley chuckled.  “Oh relax, Moose, it’s not a hangin’ rope!  I just need to take you out for a bit.  Won’t even tie you tight!”

            No response.

            “Quite a bit going on topside today,” Crowley explained, moving closer.  He squatted down in the agent’s line of sight, and once more the green eyes moved to meet his own.  “The fucking Undine overplayed his hand this time, and now he’s got Pygmy bent out of shape.  Would you believe that idiot actually tried to burn Sylph?  And get this – the new Sylph is Detective Novak!  Apparently, Granny Sylph, in one last display of dementia, chose that idiot over his sister!  Who can figure out those airheads, huh, Moose?  Then there’s Pygmy himself.  You’ve met him, at the falls when we went to get your brother out?  Does he look like any kind of inspiring leader to you?  But you know, after Sylph died, he went out into the town and settled down the protesters before they turned into riots.  Really made a name for himself, apparently.  Now those damned airheads are going door to door, trying to organize a write-in campaign for him as mayor, all because they decided they want _him_ as Lead Elder!”  Crowley shook his head in disgust.  “I’ll admit, I did not expect that.  I told you it would turn the tide against Carson, but I never thought they’d ignore the obvious alternative and go instead to that greasy mechanic!  Between you and I, Moose?  I thought it was absurd that the old Pygmy chose him as successor in the first place.  What kind of elder lives in a junkyard?  Now try to imagine that same residence for the mayor and Lead Elder!”

            Silence.  The green eyes had moved away again, staring off into space somewhere past Crowley’s left ear.  He was apparently giving Crowley the silent treatment.  Dressed today in a casual outfit of work boots, jeans, a t-shirt and flannel, Sammy was sullen, yet unresisting.  The agent was making real progress.  He’d realized that his best bet was to cooperate.  It would be prudent to expect a few more rebellions, maybe even a surprise or two.  But the Moose would play along in the end.  Crowley was sure of it.

            Crowley didn’t mind the silence from the corner.  He was chatting away, explaining in detail the complicated legal defense he was putting together for a particularly difficult client.  But what he was really doing was passing the time.  Very soon, he knew, he would get everything he wanted.

            Eventually, the waiting was over.  Crowley’s phone pinged with a message from his receptionist.  He looked at it and smiled.  “Agent, I’m about to have some very important company,” he explained.  “And I’m going to need you to be well-behaved while I tend to it.  Now, if you prefer to undo all of the progress we made, you could try interrupt and cause a fuss, but that will set us back considerably in our relationship.  It won’t make any real difference in the results of my meeting, but I’d prefer not to be embarrassed.  You won’t embarrass me, will you, Moose?”

            Green eyes glared at him without a word.

            “Atta boy!”  Crowley rose, shaking out the rope.  “Let’s get moving, shall we?  Get up and put your hands behind your back.”

            “Where are you taking me?”  The agent was paying attention now, paling slightly as he obeyed.

            “Oh relax, I’m not going to hurt you.  We’re getting visitors, and they want to see you before this meeting begins.”

            “Who, and why?”

            “Your idiot brother and his equally idiotic friends.  Apparently, they want to make a trade, and they’re willing to come down here to do it.  Squirrel must really want to reconcile with you, Moose, if he’s willing to trade himself and Levine for you.”

            “What?  Trade himself and Levine for me?”  Sammy hadn’t resisted, standing passively while Crowley tied his hands behind his back.  But he was trembling, and his hands were clenched.  “What’s going on?”

            “I got a call from Daly’s number, but it was Novak,” Crowley explained, finishing his knots.  “Said he wants to come down here with Shelton, big brother, and my successor and talk trade.  Clever sod figured out you’re down here.  Good for him, there’s hope for the sylphs yet!  Apparently, he wants to make a deal.  What he’s offering sounds well worth listening to, but they’re insisting that no deal is made until Squirrel gets a look at you and returns unharmed to report back.  Then all four are coming down here to negotiate.  I’m quite willing to chat.  At any rate, once Squirrel and Levine are back in Hell, they’re not leaving.”

            “Am I?” Moose wanted to know.  “Do you really have any intention of letting me go?”

            “That depends entirely,” Crowley declared, “on what Novak proposes.  But Squirrel’s being difficult out there, insisting that he gets to speak with you before anyone else says another word.  So, here we are!”  He tugged a bit on the end of the rope.  “Now come along, Moose.  Heel!”

            The muscles in Sammy’s jaw worked, and a slight flush rose.  But he went where Crowley led him.

            Squirrel was in the hallway, restlessly pacing about when Crowley rounded the corner with Moose.  The reactions of the two were interesting to see.  Squirrel froze at the sight of Moose, his eyes widening and a smile spreading over his face even as some of the tension visibly left his body.  Moose, for his part, slowed a step.  His eyes locked with those of his older brother.  His expression was carefully neutral, but Crowley noted that he’d straightened.

            Dean took a step closer, obviously intending to go to his brother.  But Crowley raised an arm.  “The deal was, you can see him,” he reminded.  “You see with your eyes, Squirrel, not your hands!”

            Dean pressed his lips together and nodded.  Then he turned back to Sam and frowned.  “Why’s he tied up?  Let him go, Crowley!”

            “Yes, why did you tie me up?” Sam asked.  “There’s no point in keeping me restrained.  It’s not like I can run away!”

            “You can’t get away, but he can.  And I’m not taking any chances that big brother gets any ideas about grabbing you and running,” Crowley explained.  He’d wrapped the end of the rope around his hand, and now he held it up.  “The moose stays with me.  You get an eyeful, then go back and come back down here with Levine.”

            “You’ll get what you want!” Dean snapped.  “Just let me talk to him for a minute!  Five minutes in a room, Crowley.  I just need to know he’s alright!”

            Crowley rolled his eyes, annoyed.  “He’s clearly alright.  Whatever you have to say to him, you can say right here, Squirrel.”

            “Why the hell do you keep calling me ‘Squirrel?’”

            “Dean?”  Sammy’s voice was soft.  “Don’t antagonize him, alright?  He’s holding all the cards right now, so play it his way.  Talk to me here.”

            Crowley expected Dean to argue, but to his surprise, the fiery salamander only frowned and nodded.  That was interesting.

            Meanwhile, Dean was anxiously eyeing his brother.  Crowley brought Sammy over.  The two, he noted, had the same eyes, although as he suspected, the Moose towered over the Squirrel.

            “Sammy, you ok?” Dean was asking.  “Did he hurt you?”

            Sammy shook his head.  “Just won’t let me go.”

            “Yeah, I know what that’s like.”  He paused.  “I’m going to get you out of here, Sammy.  Just hold on, ok?”

            “This was stupid, Dean,” Sammy grumbled.  “I appreciate that you’re trying to get me out, but coming down here was…”

            “…The only way Crowley was going to let me see you,” Dean finished.  “And I needed to know you were alright.”  He tentatively reached towards Sammy, stopped when Crowley frowned, and let his hands drop at his sides.  “Listen, I know you don’t know me, and I get that I mean nothing to you.  But you mean one hell of a lot to me.  You’re my brother.  And I swear, I will get you out of here.  You got no reason to trust me, but I’m asking you to anyway.  Can you do that?”

            Sammy looked, wide-eyed, at Dean.  “Why are you doing this?  Dude, you don’t know me or anything about me!  Yeah, we’re brothers, but I’m a stranger!”

            “You’re my brother,” Dean insisted.  “And you need me.  That’s all I need to know about you for now.  I need you to just keep calm and quiet, no matter what happens.  Can you do that, Sammy?”

            Sammy appeared dazed.  “Yeah, I can do that.”  He looked down at the brother he apparently had never known.  “I…  I trust you.”  And then he smiled.  “Even if you are a damned criminal.”

            Dean blinked, and then smiled back.  “Ok, federal pig!”

            “Jerk!”

            “Bitch!”

            They were both grinning at each other now.  Oh, this was getting more and more interesting.  Another moment and the two might actually hug!

            But then Sammy had to ruin it.  “He’s planning on trapping you down here, Dean!” he blurted.  “He needs Levine for something, and he’s going to use you to control him!  He’s planning to lock you up in one of the cells down here…”

            “Alright, that’s quite enough!” Crowley announced, jerking hard on the rope and then catching Sammy as the annoying moose stumbled back.  “I’ve kept my part of the deal, Winchester.  I expect you to keep yours!”

            Dean looked for a moment as if he was about to charge Crowley, and Crowley noted his goons getting ready to pounce.  But Sammy shook his head, and Dean wisely backed off.  “I already guessed what he was going to do,” Dean called.  “Don’t worry about it.  You just be careful, Sammy.  Crowley, I swear, if you hurt so much as one hair on his head…!”

            “Bring everyone to my office,” Crowley called.  He turned and began walking away, dragging the resisting agent back towards the cells.  “I’ll meet you there.”

            For all his passive acceptance earlier, Sammy was certainly fighting now.  He struggled, pulling hard against the rope until it was nearly torn out of his hands.  “Dean!  Don’t do it!  Call the FBI, tell them I’m down here, and they’ll send help!  _Dean!”_

            “Sammy, trust me!” Dean yelled back.  “I will get you out, but we gotta do this our way.  Just hang on!”

            _“Dean!_   Dammit, Crowley, stop!  What the hell are you going to do to my brother, huh?  Once you get Levine, what are you going to do to Dean?”

            Crowley felt no need to answer.  He dragged the struggling agent back to the cells and gladly handed the rope to the guards.  “Lock him back up,” he ordered.  “Don’t bother untying him.  Since he found it necessary to be so unspeakably rude a moment ago, it appears a lesson in manners is in order.”

            “Fuck you!  Let me go!”

            “That lesson, it appears, is past due!”  Crowley irritably straightened his suit and tie.  “I’ll let you go if and when you can demonstrate to me that you will remember your place.  Now good day, Agent Winchester!  I’ve got some important business to tend to.”

            Turning on his heel, Crowley stormed out in a huff.  This, he decided, would not do at all.  He needed to be at his best when he spoke with the new Sylph.  It would be one of the, if not the, most important deals he’d ever made.  And as long as everything went according to plan, he would soon have everything he wanted.  His successor would be under his control, Sylph would join with him, together they’d convince Pygmy to censor Carson, and Sammy would ship the bastard off to a nice federal hole somewhere, never to be seen again.

            Some days, it was good to be king.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun said nothing for a while, just breathed out of his nose and made his mad face. Then he said “Fucking Crowley! His uppance will come!” Thinks the guys should go down there and just start beating asses. Thinks there is nothing better than a good old fashioned ass-beating for someone who is a complete douchebag to take his feet out from under him so he says, “Hey, I got no one to hide behind anymore!” Because that’s the big thing with him. He hides behind every-fucking-thing. Yes, Mr. Fun went on a rant.


	51. Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake, Cass, Dean and Adam meet with Crowley in Hell to negotiate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May disappear for a couple days after this chapter d/t real life, but I will be back. Couple more chapters to go!

            Crowley arrived back at his office a few minutes before his guests.  He had time to compose himself, polish his salamander elder pin until it shone, and lay out five copies of the contract he’d had hastily typed in triplicate out on his desk.  His own copy, the master, had been carefully flagged at key points.  More flags indicated where everyone would initial and sign.  Everything was in place.  He was ready to negotiate.

            When Dean Winchester and Adam Levine led Blake Shelton and Cass Novak into his office, Salamander rose, beaming, to greet them.  Nodding acknowledgement at the others, he inclined his head respectfully to Sylph.  “Sylph, welcome!  I will confess, I did not expect to ever see you wearing that!” he said, his eyes falling on the golden pixie pin that now decorated Sylph’s lapel.  “Congratulations!  Let me be the first to welcome you not only to Hell, but to the Council of Elders.  I look forward to working with you!”

            Sylph only nodded.  He was visibly trembling.  Of course.  He must be frightened.  Salamander imagined he’d feel much the same if he’d just walked into a nest of undines, especially if he was completely dependent on those same undines for any hope of getting out.  The presence of the bodyguards who crowded into the room behind the four probably didn’t help Sylph’s peace of mind much.  Of course, most of their attention was fixed on Shelton.  The big undine was a wild card, and the only one capable of posing any real threat in Hell.  He obviously was there to serve as Sylph’s bodyguard.  In that respect, he was certainly a force to be reckoned with.  But Salamander could certainly understand Sylph’s nervousness.

            Salamander had already had four chairs arranged in front of his desk.  He stood politely until his guests had seated themselves before sitting down.  Manners mattered, after all, and being polite would help reduce some of the obvious tension in the room.  But once in his chair, he couldn’t keep his eyes from moving greedily to Levine.  Salamander had never imagined that it would be so difficult to get his successor under his control.  If he’d even guessed, he would have named Levine long ago!  But at the time, he’d needed both Levine and Winchester available for work to help win the election.  He’d known all along that locking up Winchester was likely the only way he’d ever be able to effectively control Levine, and that would greatly reduce Levine’s effectiveness as an operative.  Now, it was looking more and more likely that he’d have to lock up Levine, as well, at least for a while.  He couldn’t risk Daly somehow getting to his successor.

            Did Levine even realize how important he really was?  Salamander doubted it.  In Levine’s eyes, this was probably all about a personal bid for power.  Levine’s hazel eyes were fixed on the top of Salamander’s desk.  He refused to look up.  Well, that was alright.

            Salamander forced his eyes away from his long-lost successor and looked back at Sylph.  “If you don’t mind, I would like to clarify, for the record, the terms we discussed over the phone.”

            “We’re fine with that.”  Surprisingly, it was Shelton who’d spoken.

            Salamander looked pointedly at Sylph.  “You said you were bringing a recording device?”

            “I got it right here,” Shelton drawled, producing the device and placing it on the table.  “And Adam already set it up with the wifi you got down here, so we’ll have the off-site recording.”

            Salamander cleared his throat, frowning at Sylph.  “Sylph, I’m aware that you’re new and you likely had little in the way of training prior to the tragic circumstances that resulted in your assuming your position.  But you should be aware that, when meeting with another elder, it’s customary to speak for yourself.  Not even a successor should speak on your behalf.”

            “Blake is speaking to you because he’s capable of doing so civilly,” Sylph spat.  “Dean told me what you did, how you dragged his brother away like an animal on the end of a rope?  You disgust me!  But frankly, I doubt I could have spoken civilly to you even if you’d treated him well.  Fergus Crowley, I find you repulsive, morally reprehensible, a bigot, a liar, and a thief!  The fact that you attempt to act like a civilized man instead of the maggot in a fancy suit you actually are is laughable.  If we didn’t need your assistance, we would never be down in this filthy hole, forced to breathe the same air as you.  The fact that we must do so offends me!  That is why Blake is speaking.  Now I strongly suggest you continue to allow him to do so, before I tell you what I _really_ think of you!”

            Crowley’s eyes widened.  Novak, apparently, wasn’t trembling from fear.  Looking into the sylph’s eyes, Crowley recognized what was really there – raw fury.  Novak looked like he was barely able to restrain himself from diving over the desk onto Crowley.

            Winchester snickered and slipped his hand into Novak’s.  Crowley noticed the way Novak clutched at the hand.  His eyes narrowed.  So the two were lovers.  How had that little fact not been picked up by any of his operatives and relayed to him?  And now the sylph was here, knowing he’d have to give up his lover?  No wonder he was upset.  Still, this could be turned to his advantage.  Winchester’s value had just increased.  Not only could Crowley use him to control Levine and Agent Winchester, but perhaps the powerful Sylph, as well!  The opportunity was too good to pass up.  Crowley did a quick readjustment of his tactics.  He’d have to play this carefully, not let on that he knew the truth.  Sylph, he knew, would likely fight for his lover, and pressing too hard would show his hand.  But Crowley wasn’t worried.  The stakes may have changed, but the terms of their agreement would not.  At least, not right away.

            “I see,” Crowley said aloud, carefully schooling his expression.  “Very well.”  Pointedly looking away from Novak, he turned to Shelton, whose smile had widened into a smirk.  “You’re prepared to discuss the terms we agreed upon and be recorded?”

            “That I am.”  Shelton was looking over the contract, as were the other three.  “And Cass already stated for the record that I’m speaking on his behalf, so we can skip that.  I know how much you lawyers love all the details.”

            “Very well.  As there is one item that was previously agreed on as non-negotiable, I suggest we get it out of the way.”

            The smirk faltered.  “You want Adam.”

            “That’s correct.  I would like to name him as my successor immediately.  All of the other terms we discussed…”

            “Hold yer horses.  Adam’s here, and he’s not going anywhere.  Dean’s right here as well, but I don’t see Sammy anywhere.”  Shelton looked pointedly around.

            “You’re referring to Agent Sam Winchester of the FBI,” Crowley announced for the recorder. “The deal was that Dean Winchester be given the opportunity to talk to him face to face, to assure his safety for himself.  That was done, and Agent Winchester has been returned to protective custody.”

            “You mean you dragged my brother away on the end of a rope and threw him back into one of those cages you got down the hall!” Dean snapped.

            Shelton raised a cautious hand towards Winchester.  “Sammy’s part of this deal, so he should be part of the negotiations.  He’s named right here!”  He waved the contract.  “Before you lay a finger on Adam, Sammy needs to come out here.”

            “The agreement was that he remains in my custody, as does his brother, Dean Winchester.  It’s the third paragraph, Detective Shelton.”

            “As it says here, they’ll both remain in Hell until released by the Salamander,” Shelton said.  The smirk had faded completely now.  “We still don’t like it, but we’ll agree because you’re not giving us any other choice.  I just don’t see how we can continue without Sammy being here.”

            Next to him, Novak’s jaw was clenched.  His hand gripped Winchester’s so tightly that the salamander was wincing, while his other hand nearly crumpled his copy of the contract.  But Crowley noted with surprise that Levine was reaching for Shelton’s hand, his fingers tentatively worming their way into it.  He was more surprised when Shelton’s hand closed, all but engulfing the smaller man’s hand.  Ah.  That explained a few things, especially why Daly’s pet detectives had both suddenly gone rabid.  Apparently, Levine and Winchester were better than he’d thought.  They’d managed to seduce not one, but both of Carson’s Angels.  Now that was just delicious.  “Agent Winchester’s appearance at this meeting was neither agreed upon nor necessary,” he declared, focusing on the task at hand.  “I agreed to allow a face to face meeting between the agent and Dean Winchester, as per that same paragraph.  It took place, and Agent Winchester was returned to protective custody.  He’ll remain there for the duration of this meeting.”

            “I don’t agree to that.”

            “I’m afraid it’s not something I’m willing to bend on.”

            “Then what the hell is the point of negotiating?” Shelton exclaimed.  “There’s supposed to be give and take on both sides here!  We came here for two things – to ensure your cooperation in censoring Carson, and for Sammy.  You’re an idiot if you don’t agree to help with Carson, Crowley.  That’s as much in your best interest as ours!  But to take him down, we need Sammy!  If you’re keeping Sammy, what the hell are you giving us?”

            “Agent Winchester will be permitted to carry out his duties as an agent while he remains physically in my custody for his own protection.  As to the point of negotiating, I did indeed give you something.  You’ll note that I did not yet carry out what we _did_ previously agree upon, namely my taking Levine as my successor,” Crowley pointed out.  “I realize that my… approach with Agent Winchester has greatly upset the four of you.  In respect to that, I’m not going to further upset you by taking what is rightfully mine.”

            “Me, you mean?  I’m not your fucking property, Crowley!” Levine snapped, speaking for the first time.  His eyes hadn’t moved from the desk.  “You can’t just claim me like a dog!”

            Shelton squeezed his hand.  “Adam, calm down, buddy.  Although he is right, Crowley, he’s not your fucking property.”

            “And that is precisely why I am not insisting on your immediately fulfilling the one non-negotiable item we discussed.  That is what I’m giving you.  For that, I expect that you’ll agree to table the discussion regarding Agent Winchester.”

            Shelton clearly didn’t like this, but he said nothing.  He leaned back, glancing at Winchester.  Winchester’s cheeks were flushed, but he said nothing either.  His green eyes were fixed on his hand, which was still clutching tight to Novak’s.  Novak brought it to his lips, gave it a quick kiss, and returned to glaring at Crowley.

            Crowley turned to his copy of the contract and flipped a page.  “Let’s discuss the Undine,” he said.  “Once I make Levine my successor and Winchester is safely in my custody, Sylph will join me in approaching Pygmy.  We will explain that we have evidence Carson Daly is, in fact, Lucifer, a known crime boss, and that he is responsible for multiple acts of crime against the people of Elemental Falls.  These acts include the murders of the previous Salamander, Undine, and Sylph, the murders of Roman Levine and John Winchester…”

            All four were shifting now.  Levine and Winchester were staring at Crowley with hate in their eyes.  Sylph’s blue eyes looked murderous.  Even Shelton looked uncomfortable as he reached out a restraining arm over his partner, squeezed Levine’s hand, and settled Winchester with a sharp glare.  “You’re really going to do this?” Shelton asked.  “You’re going to pin the murders of Roman Levine and John Winchester on Carson?  The murders _you_ committed?”

            “…As well as willful and knowing deception of the Elemental Falls Police, using the mostly undine officers under his control to further his own agenda,” Crowley finished.  He kept the smirk off of his face with practiced ease.  “Carson Daly will take the fall, not only for the murders I took part in, but all of it.  That will keep Adam Levine and Dean Winchester from being charged with anything, so I suggest you not raise too much of a fuss.”  He paused, letting that sink in.  “I will not allow my successor to be implicated in any crime.”

            “Why, Crowley?” Levine asked.  “Why do you want me?  You know I’ll always fight you!  You could pick anyone to be your successor, so why do you insist on me?”

            “Choosing a successor is about more than tradition,” Crowley explained patiently.  “The power of an elder waxes and wanes with not only the elder’s power, but the successor’s, as well.  The successor always has an effect on the elder.  It was precisely why salamanders always chose their most powerful, rather than who was the best leader like the undines or whatever motivates the sylphs or the pygmies.  And the power of Lead Elder affects the power that can be wielded through the scepter.  It can be used for more than just censoring a naughty elemental!  With your power added to mine, our people can finally break their yoke!”  He leaned forward, looking at Levine with undisguised greed.  “Why do I want you?  Because I can use you to increase my own power.  Then I can use the scepter to protect our people from ever being controlled the way Lucifer did again.  That is why I need you, and that is why I _will_ have you!”

            Levine was taken aback.  He leaned back in his chair, his eyes wide.  They flicked to Shelton, who squeezed his hand.

             “Once Pygmy is on board, he, Sylph, and I will utilize the scepter to censor the Undine,” Crowley continued.  “Detective Shelton will immediately place him under arrest.  Once we learn who now holds the title of Undine, Sylph will immediately move to nominate me as Lead Elder, and will convince Pygmy to second.  Agent Winchester will remain in Hell for his own safety and direct the federal investigation into the actions of Carson Daly.  Dean Winchester will also remain in Hell for _my_ personal safety, until such time as my successor can demonstrate his loyalty and prove I am under no threat from either of them.  As the new Mayor, I will assure that Blake Shelton will assume the duties of the new Chief of Police of Elemental Falls.  And of course, the trust fund for the perpetual care of Roman Levine’s widow, Adam Levine’s mother, is already in place.  Under the terms I have set up, it will go in effect the instant that Adam Levine becomes my successor.”  Crowley folded his hands on the desk.  “Have I missed anything?”

            “Before you get your hands on Adam?” Shelton said.  The man’s lips barely moved as he spoke.  “I need to know what insurance I have that you won’t hurt Dean.  If we leave him here with you, you can use him against Adam, Sammy, and Cass!  What’s to stop you from using him to control the other three?”

            “Not a bloody thing,” Crowley replied.  “Except, of course, that if I hurt him, then all three you just named will be quite cross with me, wouldn’t they?  Why would I shoot myself in the foot like that?”  The threat would be enough, Crowley knew.  But he’d worry about that later.  First things first.  He kept his eyes fixed on Shelton, forcing himself not to look over at Levine again.  How Shelton ended up speaking for this group was beyond him, but Crowley had certainly worked with worse.  “Do you understand the rest of the arrangement?”

            Blake nodded, looking at his copy of the contract.  “After you make Adam your successor, we leave Sammy and Dean here, in the custody of Salamander,” he read.  “Then we go see Pygmy.”

            “If you hurt them…?”  Novak’s already coarse voice had deepened to an animalistic growl.

            “The Winchesters will be my guests,” Crowley assured.  “Other than what force may be necessary to defend myself, I can assure you that they will not be harmed.”

            “Note the out he left himself?” Novak asked Shelton.  “He technically didn’t hurt Sammy when he dragged him out on a rope, so that was perfectly alright!  And any time he does hurt them, he can say it was necessary to defend himself!”

            “It’s ok,” Winchester soothed.  “Let him have me, and I’ll do what I have to do to make sure he doesn’t hurt Sammy.  The important thing is that we take down Carson, remember?”

            Novak lifted Winchester’s hand again, this time clutching it to his chest.  His eyes were still boring holes through Crowley’s skull.

            “Can we discuss their imprisonment?  I think we need to include regular visits from myself and Cass,” Shelton called, his eyes on his partner.  “We need to see that they’re both unharmed, and Cass needs to be able to see Dean.”

            “Agreed, on one condition.  Leave Levine here, as well.  Now, before you get excited, hear me out,” he called over the chorus of protests.  “Once I make him my successor, he’ll become a target.  And the Undine, as you’ve surely realized, will not go down easily.  Even after he’s censored and behind bars, he represents a threat.  Although you dramatically refer to my custody as ‘imprisonment,’ it really is simply protective custody.  Hell is the one place that the Undine cannot reach.”  His eyes moved to Levine, and saw that he was staring sharply back at him.  “Levine stays with me so I can protect him until Carson Daly is sentenced and locked away in federal prison,” Crowley said, forcing his eyes back to Shelton.  “And in return, I will agree to regular visits with the Winchesters.  I’ll even provide a nice double bed!”

            “Oh, that’s big of you, Crowley,” Winchester snapped.  “Let me have conjugal visits in my cage!”

            “Dean?” Shelton warned.  “Y’all need to shush now, alright?”

            To Crowley’s amazement, for the first time since he’d been brought into the business, Dean Winchester went quiet on command.  Whatever Shelton had done, Crowley hoped he would share his secret.  “So, do we have a deal?”

            All four were reading through the contract and frowning.  Then they reluctantly signed.  Crowley had already signed.  The five copies were passed around until they’d all been signed by everyone present.

            Crowley collected his copy of the contract with a pleased smile.  “You’ve made the right choice,” he declared.  “As we agreed, Levine and Winchester will never see the inside of a prison cell over any of this, nor will they have to testify.”

            “Yeah, we’ll just see the inside of whatever cell you’re going to throw us into down here,” Levine grumbled.

            “Then without further ado?”  Crowley rose from his chair and moved around the desk, his eyes fixed on Levine.

            Levine was up like a shot.  His hazel eyes went wide as he backed quickly away.  “Don’t touch me!”

            “We had an agreement,” Crowley reminded, seeing the other three getting up as well.  “Seriously, Levine, it won’t hurt!  Just ask Novak or even Shelton, they can tell you!”

            “Adam?”  Shelton’s voice was annoyingly gentle.  “You don’t have to do this.”

            Crowley was about to tell him that yes, he did have to do it, but Levine beat him to it.  “Yeah, I do.  Just gimme a moment…”

            “Oh for…!  I’m done waiting!”  Crowley seized Levine’s arm.  “In the presence of all here to witness, I formally announce that Adam Levine is my choice as successor to the title of Salamander.  There!  That wasn’t so bad, now, was it?”

            “Take your fucking hands off of him!” Shelton yelled.  The big ape rudely shoved past Crowley and grabbed Levine, who was swaying on his feet.

            Crowley raised a hand, warding back the guards who had moved forward.  Then he indicated Winchester.

            All four yelled when the guards grabbed Winchester, but Shelton’s bellow overrode them all.  _“Crowley!_   You need to stop for one fucking minute!  There’s something you need to know.”

            Crowley patiently raised a hand to still the guards.  They stopped, still holding onto Winchester.  Winchester’s eyes were on Levine.  “Adam?  You do _not_ have to do this!  You’re powerful enough to take Blake and Cass out.  Just go!”

            “It’s alright,” Levine said.  “I can do it.”  For some reason, he was pale-faced as he clung to Shelton.  But his hazel eyes were furious when he looked at Crowley.  “Hey, Bobby?” he called.  “Did you get all of that?”

            “Loud and clear,” Singer’s voice responded through the recording device.  “They’re ready when you are.”

            Levine looked up at Shelton, who stared quietly back.  Then once again, the hazel eyes turned to Crowley and grew hard.  “Crowley?  As you’ve figured out by now, that was a two-way communicator.  Bobby Singer is up at the station of the Elemental Falls Volunteer Fire Department, where Cass had the sylphs gather all of the salamanders in town.  They’ve been listening in this whole time.  They just heard you admit that you kidnapped an FBI agent, planned to kidnap Dean to hold hostage as leverage against me, forced me to be your successor and then planned to kidnap me as well, and that you intended to pin the murders you committed on Carson.  And now they’re voting, Crowley.  Because the majority of the salamanders aren’t criminals, and they sure as hell aren’t here in Hell.  They’re good, honest people, and they won’t stand for an elder like you!  They’re voting to remove your title as elder as we speak!”

            _“What?!”_   Crowley launched a fireball at the device, incinerating it instantly.  But it was too late.  He could feel it, the sudden, drastic reduction in power that made him cry out, fall forward and clutch the desk for support.

            Meanwhile, Levine was crying out as well.  “Get away from me!” he warned.  “I couldn’t control my powers before, and this will be so much worse!  _Dean!”_

            Winchester was already there.  Shelton had moved back, raised his watery armor, and stood protectively in front of Novak.  And the guards, what were the guards doing?  They were simply standing there, staring in awe at Levine as his body burst into flames, transforming into the living fire for the first time.

            Crowley, furious, opened his mouth, intending to order the guards to seize Levine and Winchester.  But then he realized the truth.  As his successor, the moment that the majority of the salamanders had voted to remove him as elder, his power had passed to Levine.  _Levine_ was Salamander now!  And as salamanders, the guards and everyone else in Hell now looked to him.

            No, this was not good.

            Winchester, it seemed, had managed to help Salamander.  Salamander was back in human form, panting and trembling as he held to his friend, who continued to speak softly to him.  Shelton had dropped his armor and was watching the guards.  Sylph came around the desk to approach Crowley.  Crowley did not like the smug smile on his face.

            He liked it even less when Sylph reached out and casually removed the golden salamander pin from Crowley’s lapel.  “Adam?” he called.  “I think this is yours.”

            “Thanks?”  Salamander eyed the pin, reluctantly accepting it.  Then his eyes returned to Dean.  “I can’t do this without you.  It’s too much! What do I do?”

            “Name me successor,” Winchester suggested.

            “Nonsense!” Crowley spat.  “Your family is among the weakest of the salamanders!”

            “I don’t give a shit!” Salamander snapped back.  “I’ve got enough power for us both, but I need his control.  Only if you’re willing, Deanie?”

            Winchester nodded.  “Name me.”

            “In the presence of all here to witness, I formally announce that Dean Winchester is my choice as successor to the title of Salamander!”

            Winchester’s eyes went wide for a moment.  Then he frowned.  “Huh!  That wasn’t nearly as exciting as everyone else made it seem?”

            “Bloody hell, you’ve got a lot of control, don’t you?” Crowley noted, respectful in spite of himself.  “There may be hope for our element yet!”

            Unfortunately, speaking seemed to remind everyone that he was in the room.  Crowley suddenly found himself pinned by four sets of hostile eyes.

            “I think we’ll go and get Agent Winchester now,” Slyph suggested, turning his back on Crowley.

            “You can’t have him!” he snapped.  “Truth is, you can’t have any of them!  I have a fucking _contract!”_

            Shelton snapped his fingers.  “Oh yeah, every single item you had on that contract pertained to an agreement with Salamander.  Since that’s Adam now, I’d say he’s got all the aces, and you’ve got the Squat brothers, Jack and Diddly!  Dean, Adam, you guys coming?”

            “Why don’t the two of you go get Sammy?” Dean suggested.  “I don’t think you’ll have any trouble.  After all, the salamanders all fall in line, right, Crowley?  Meanwhile, Adam and I have a few scores to settle.”

            No, this was definitely not good.  Crowley eyed the two salamanders, noted with dismay that his guards were all leaving, and looked frantically at Shelton and Novak.  “You two are police officers!  You’re going to stand back and allow me to be assaulted?”

            “I didn’t see anything,” Shelton called.  “You, Cass?”

            “Not a thing.  Let’s go get Sammy.”  And with that, the two detectives strolled casually out and shut the office door behind them.

            Crowley eyed Winchester and Levine.  The two were smiling at him in a way he absolutely did not care for.  “Hey, Crowley!” Winchester called.  “What’s your game?  Dodgeball, or Duck Duck Goose?”

****

            “You sure you’re ok, Adam?” Blake asked for the third time.

            “I’m fine,” Adam sighed.  “Really, I’m ok.  As soon as I named Dean, well, I guess Crowley was right about the successor having an effect.  I don’t think I’ve ever felt more in control of my powers!  Besides, there wasn’t any other way to do it.  You know Crowley wouldn’t have agreed to help us with Carson unless we let him have me.  You were right about that, Blake.”

            “You were right about everything,” Dean called.  “You’re really not as dumb as you look, Shelton!”

            Blake chose not to respond to that.  His eyes brightened as he spotted a familiar face.  “Sammy!  C’mere and let me take a look at your wrists.”

            Sam came over.  The agent’s wrists were bleeding from his struggles, but other than this he was no worse for wear.  He carried his suit jacket over his arm as he walked.  Blake quickly healed his wrists, and Sammy smiled.  “Thanks.  I’ve arrested Crowley, called in some assistance from the state since they were in town anyway.  As soon as he’s discharged from the emergency room, they’ll take him into custody.”  He eyed Dean and Adam.  “You know, the two of you could have been a bit less enthusiastic?”

            “Don’t know what you mean,” Dean declared.

            “I heard he fell down some stairs,” Adam added.

            Sam rolled his eyes.  “At any rate, he was pretty quick to take the deal I offered him.  He’ll testify against Daly in exchange for a reduced sentence.  Between that and what you found, Dean, we’ve got enough to make an arrest.”

            “What I…  You found it?”  Dean stared at his brother in surprise.

            In answer, Sam indicated his coat.  He carefully pulled at the seam at the back, tore it open, and revealed the papers inside.  “I knew there was nowhere I could hide them that I was sure could be safe,” he explained.  “So I kept them with me.”  He grinned at his brother.  “We make a heck of a team, Dean!”

            “Then it’s time to take down Carson,” Cass declared.  “We just need to censure him.  Bobby’s going to meet us back at the fire station, and then he and Adam and I can finish this.”  He smiled at Blake.  “I’m proud of you, partner!  You really pulled this off!”

            “Except Dean and Adam are trapped here in town now,” Blake grumbled.

            “That’s ok,” Adam called.  “We’ve got a lot here in town worth staying for.”

            Blake met his eyes for a moment.  Then he returned his attention to Cass.  “Problem is, it’s not going to be that easy.  First off, Carson will be dangerous even when he’s not an elder anymore.  In fact, he’ll probably be worse.  Second, the undines won’t turn on him the way the salamanders did with Crowley.  I know my people.  We’re stubborn, and we’re loyal, and right now, they see him as a hero!  Considering how hard it was for me to realize the truth about Carson, well, the undines are still going to kick up a fuss.  And then there’s the real dangerous types, the ones in his crime syndicate he controls as Lucifer.”

            Blake’s phone rang.  He pulled it out, noted Bobby’s number, and quickly put it on speaker.  “Hey, Bobby, what’s going on in town?”

            “Nothing,” Bobby’s gruff voice announced.  “It’s what’s going on at my house you need to worry about!  Apparently, while I was out, I had some visitors.  I came back here to find I’d been robbed.  The scepter, Blake.  The fuckers took the scepter!  Dammit, I never should have left it in my safe!”

            “Um, that’s bad,” Sam called.  “According to Bobby’s book, without the scepter, you can’t censor Daly!”

            “Did you read about what else that scepter can do, Sammy?” Bobby asked.

            Sam was frowning.  “It can open a direct link to the elemental plane.  In times of dire emergency, an elder with the scepter can use it to summon full elemental spirits to fight at his or her side.”

            “Oh fuck me!” Adam groaned.  “That’s what Crowley was talking about!  He wanted my power so he could control true fire elementals!”

            “Wait, so he’ll have a whole _army_ of water elementals when we go after him?”  Dean sighed.  “It just cannot be easy, can it?  Someone come up with a plan!”

            “Even with three other elders on our side, we can’t stand against an army of water elementals on our own,” Blake declared.  “This is going to take a concentrated effort.  Bobby, think you could round up all the pygmies, sylphs, and salamanders you can get and gather them together?”

            “Sure can, especially when I tell them what’s going on.  Problem is going to be the undines, and we’ll need them the most.  The rest of us can beat them back, but you’re talking pure elemental water spirits here.  Only undines can banish them back to the elemental plane!  But the undines are still on Carson’s side, and if you start making noise among the other elementals, they’ll only run to their elder and stand with him.”

            “Then we gotta convince them of what Carson really is,” Blake declared.  “We need to get them away from Carson long enough that I can talk to them.  They’re stubborn, but they’re good people.  And if I can’t convince them with three elders, a successor, an FBI agent and Dean’s evidence, then there’s no hope for any of us!  I know I can do it.  But how do we get them all together, away from Carson?”

            “We’ll need a distraction,” Cass mused.  “Something to get their attention away from Carson.”

            Adam nudged Dean.  “Distraction is what you do best!”

            “Damned right!  Hey Shelton, think we could make a detour to Bobby’s?”

            “Sure, you got something in mind?”

            Dean smiled.  “Yeah, I might have an idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun very much liked that Crowley’s uppance did come. Enjoyed the fact that he got beat up by Dean and Adam maybe a little too much, although he claims he could never enjoy Crowley getting beat up too much. Enjoyed Cass telling Crowley off. Thought Bobby should have kept the scepter with him at all times. Thinks Dean is getting Baby, because why wouldn’t he?


	52. Anything for Attention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake and Dean bond while working to draw attention to themselves any way they can. Cass and Adam start plotting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I'm back, and should continue daily updates until this is finished in a few more chapters. Thanks for your patience!
> 
> Diegetic music here is "Cowboys From Hell" by Pantera  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iPk8IStlDw4
> 
> The "always cheat" maxim that Blake quotes here is from our GM from our tabletop gaming days. He was entirely too fond of it.

            When Dean pulled off the tarp, Blake walked slowly around the gleaming Impala with a smile on his face and his eyes shining.  He peered over Dean’s shoulder as he checked under the hood.  Dean glanced up, saw the way the blue eyes were moving expertly over the engine, and felt his chest swell with pride.  “You like my Baby?”

            “Hell yes!”  Blake’s smile widened.  “I saw some of what your girl can do, remember?  Damned fine machine!”  He shook his head and chuckled.  “Cannot believe you hid her here, in the garage belonging to one of our elders!”

            “In my defense, Bobby neglected to mention that he was Pygmy,” Dean grumbled.  “I don’t think we would have even known he was an elemental if we hadn’t stumbled in on him raising a car up on blocks of stone because his lift was broken!”  That was still a sore spot for him.

            “For a pygmy, he’s an odd duck,” Blake conceded.  “They’re usually rooted in tradition.  I can’t believe he didn’t turn your sorry asses in.”

            “Eh, Bobby’s a stubborn old bastard, but he’s got a heart of gold.  In some ways…”  He sighed.  “In a lot of ways, that son of a bitch has been more of a father to us than my father ever was.”

            “He teach you how to work on cars?”

            “They both had a hand in that, dad and Bobby.  Baby was new when my dad bought her.  He kept her pristine and I kept it up.  Except for a few upgrades, replaced some parts here and there, she’s just like she was when he first drove her off the lot.”

            “Damn!”  Blake ran a hand lovingly along the side of the car.  “You ever think about maybe starting a restoration business when this is over?  I mean, you and Adam are done with crime if you’re going to be with us, right?”

            “Yeah.  Honestly, neither of us wanted to stay in the business as long as we did.  But restoration?”  He snorted.  “What are you talking about, Blake?  Yeah, I got the skills, but I’m an ex-con, with no high school diploma or job experience and not a whole lot of money.  I don’t know anything about running a business!  Hell, I can’t even balance a checkbook.  Adam always took care of the money stuff.”

            “Then let him do it.  No one except maybe Bobby would hire an ex-con, and he couldn’t afford to pay you for more than part-time.  So starting your own business makes sense.”

            Dean rolled his eyes.  “And what bank is going to give us the start-up money we’ll need to open that business?”

            “None,” Blake informed him.  “Good thing you got a rich boyfriend, isn’t it?”  Blake’s eyes moved lovingly over Baby again.  “I gotta tell you, Dean, you’re driving one fine bit of advertising for your new business!  I’d give my left testicle for a car like this!  And there’s enough old money in this town that you’d get actual cash, rather than body parts.  Especially if your rich boyfriend’s handsome, charming, witty, southern gentleman best friend spreads the word around some of the motorheads he races with.”

            For a moment Dean only stood there, dumbfounded.  He stared at Blake, his mind filled with possibility.  “You’d do that for me?”

            “On one condition!”

            “What’s that?”

            “Someday, after I can finally earn your trust?”  Blake indicated the Impala.  “You let me drive your Baby!”

            Dean smiled.  “Hey, Blake?”  When Blake looked over, he fished the keys out of his pocket.  “Catch!”

            Blake blinked in surprise, catching the keys.  The look on his face made Dean laugh.  “Dude, you’re the race car driver, right?  We’re going to have to move damned fast if we want to pull this off, so you’re the logical choice here!  And I know you’ll take way better care of my Baby than my dipshit friend ever did!”  His smile widened.  “I trust you already, Blake.”

            Blake’s blue eyes were very wide.  The big cop swallowed hard, clutching the keys.  “She won’t get a single scratch!”

            “If she does?  I’ll burn the hair off of your ass, pal!  Adam won’t be able to touch you for days!”

            “Don’t be jealous of my fine ass, Dean.  Or my enormous cock.”

            “Ain’t the size of the boat, it’s the motion of the ocean!”  Dean climbed into the passenger seat, watching Blake as the larger man slid the seat back and adjusted the mirrors.  “I mean it.  Not a scratch!”

            “She gets a single one, I’ll bend right over for you, Dean.”  Blake looked like a kid at Christmas.  He explored the controls, getting a feel for the vehicle.  “You got a little bend in the gas pedal,” he noted.  “You gotta step on the top of it?”

            Dean laughed.  “Yeah!  One of my toys got wedged under it when dad had to make a quick getaway back when I was a kid.  Nearly got us caught.  Dad stomped on that gas so hard he broke my toy and bent the pedal.  Fanned my ass for it, too.  And then Adam threw a fit about it, so he got it, too.

            Blake’s smile vanished.  “No offense, Dean, but your dad sounds like a real bastard.”

            “He could be.”

            Blake started up Baby.  She woke immediately, settling into the familiar purr as she idled.  Blake revved her up a few times, a delighted smile on his face as he listened to the powerful engine.

            Dean fidgeted.  He hadn’t been lying when he said he trusted Blake, but he still couldn’t help but feel anxious.  “How about some music?” he asked, switching on the radio.

            The familiar chords of “Carry On My Wayward Son” immediately assaulted his ears.  But before he could do more than frown, Blake quickly reached over and switched the radio off.

            “Sorry,” Blake said, misinterpreting Dean’s frown.  “I know you’re into classic rock, but that song drives Cass crazy.”

            Dean blinked.  “Really?”

            Blake shrugged.  “He says it grates on his nerves and makes his teeth hurt.  It’s the only song he absolutely cannot stand, so I learned quick to turn it off if it ever came on the radio.  Otherwise, he’s a bitch for hours afterwards.  Um…  Why are you grinning at me like that?”

            “Do you own a house, Blake?”

            “I rent, actually.  Was thinking, now that Gwen’s gone, I’d look for a smaller place, something I can afford on just my salary.  Why?”

            “I’m just wondering if maybe I can’t talk my rich boyfriend into letting all of us move in with him,” Dean announced.

            Blake blinked, giving a puzzled smile.  “You want all four of us living with Cass in that big house?”

            “Sure, why not?”

            “Why the hell would you want that?”

            “No reason.  So!”  Dean clapped his hands together.  “We doing this?”

            “You got it!”  Putting Baby in gear, Blake started out of the garage.  “You can turn the radio back on if you want to?”

            “No no, that’s ok!  I got a better idea anyway.”  Dean pulled up his box of tapes and started rooting through it.

            “Tapes?  How retro!” Blake noted.  “What are you looking for?”

            “You guys used to be Carson’s Angels, right?  Well, now you’re something different.  You need some music to reflect that!  Here we go!”  Dean produced a tape.

            Blake noted the title and laughed.  “That ain’t classic rock!”

            “No, but it fits!”

            “That it does.”

            Dean grinned wickedly.  “Alright, let’s go cause some trouble!”

            Blake dropped Baby into gear, and a moment later they were on the road.  Blake was moving fairly rapidly, but he soon eased off the gas.  Seeing Dean’s raised eyebrow, he explained.  “I’m still getting used to the way she handles.  Don’t want to take these turns too quickly and have her fishtail on me!”

            Dean gave him a look.  “Blake?  If Adam ever acts up, like, gets bitchy or demanding or won’t put out?  I’m happy to slap the shit out of him for you!”

            Blake chuckled.  “Appreciate the sentiment, but don’t think that will be necessary, Dean.”

            “I can also give you some great blackmail material?  I know all the stupid shit he used to do when we were kids!”

            “Hey, _now_ you’re talking!  But for now, we’d best focus on the task at hand.  We got a speed trap coming up here in another block.  Probably the best place for us to start getting their attention!  Now, I was thinking…”  He paused, glancing over.  “Um, why are you undoing your belt?”  Seeing Dean’s answering grin, he groaned.  “Oh, you cannot be serious!  I know you probably sent that picture on your phone to everyone on your contact list!  Don’t you think enough people have seen parts of your body recently, Dean-o?”

            Dean shot him a pleading look.  “Blake, for the first time in my life, I am able to do this to cops in front of another cop!  Let me have my moment!”

            Blake opened his mouth to protest, took in Dean’s face, and groaned again.  “I know I’m going to regret this.”

            “Dude, you’re awesome!”  Dean started the music.  The sound of an opening guitar riff began to blare from the speakers.  Dean looked over at Blake.  “Say, what do you think about red meat?”

            “I approve.”

            “Pie?”

            “I definitely approve!”

            “Beer?”

            “You mean the other white meat?”

            Dean made moon eyes at Blake.  “Will you marry me?”

            They both laughed.  Then Blake groaned yet again as Dean lowered his window and got into position.  “Oh well,” he declared, rolling down his own window.  “If you can’t beat ‘em…?”

            “Atta boy, Blakey!” Dean cheered.  He cranked up the music to full volume.

_“You see us coming and you all together run for cover!  We're takin' over this town! Here we come, reach for your gun and you better listen well my friend, you see, it's been slow down below.  Aimed at you, we're the cowboys from Hell!”_

            The Impala shook with noise.  Blake added to it by blaring the horn, left arm out the window.  “Hey assholes!” he bellowed.  “Wanna throw some stones at me now?”

            “Kiss my ass, pigs!” Dean roared.

            Baby zoomed past the speed trap at about seventy.  Pantera blasted from the open windows.  Blake’s middle finger jutted over the roof, while Dean’s exposed buttocks protruded from the passenger side window.

            The sirens started up almost immediately.

            Laughing, Dean got back inside and properly dressed.  “Oh, _damn_ that was fun!” he whooped.

            “Ok, I’ll admit, that was pretty fun,” Blake admitted.  “Now get your seatbelt on.  We gotta get every cop in town and it’s going to be a wild ride!”

            “Um, that is a problem,” Dean realized.  “How are we going to get just the undines when Daly’s got all those other goons crawling around looking for us?”

            “Because I’m an undine, too,” Blake replied, as if that explained everything.  “Trust me, we’ll just have undines with us.”

            “What makes you so sure?”

            “Remember how we caught you guys?”

            Dean scowled.  “You cheating bastards!”

            “Win if you can, lose if you must,” Blake declared, “but always cheat!”

****

            “As much as I hate to admit it, Dean is right,” Adam confessed.  “Flying really does suck!”

            “At least you’re not as heavy as Dean is,” Cass grumbled into his ear.  “You’re certainly not light, Adam, but you’re a bit easier on my back.”

            “You’re his boyfriend!  Put his fat ass on a diet when you get him home,” Adam suggested.

            “You do realize that Dean isn’t fat?”

            “Yes, Cass, I do.  But it wouldn’t hurt him to get a little healthier.  Him and Blake both!”

            “They do both appear to have diets high in red meat, pastries, and alcoholic beverages,” Cass conceded.  “Once you and Blake move in with me, I’ll…”

            “Once we do what?”

            “Oh, um, would you like to live with me?” Cass asked politely.  “I’ve got a huge house, and I’m fairly certain I can have Dean with me, but I should have asked the two of you rather than assuming.”

            “Cass, you do realize that the four of us in one house is probably going to end up with you having serious repair bills?”

            “It’s alright, I’m rich now.”

            Adam laughed.  “I would love to live with you, Cass!  And I’ll convince Blake.  Then we’ll put them both on a diet.  Teach them that vegetables aren’t actually poisonous…”

            “…And jogging is actually not punishment!”

            “I bet if we made veggie burgers and loaded them up with all the shit Dean puts on his bacon double cheese nightmares, they wouldn’t even know the difference!”

            “I’m betting we could find a way to put N.A. beer into regular bottles?”

            “Nice, Cass!  I like the way you think!”  Adam patted the arms around him.  “Ok, you and me, buddy, plotting session later.  Now, explain to me exactly why I’m carrying this silly Garfield kite?”

            Cass flew lower to the ground.  Beneath them, the sounds of screaming guitars could be heard blasting from the Impala.  “You’re aware of the extra police presence?”

            “Yeah, I noticed there’s a lot more than the local yokels, no offense.”

            “None taken.  Those are from out of town, and then there’s state boys.  The way Blake and Dean are tearing through town right now, they’re going to have pretty much everyone chasing after them, undine and otherwise.  The otherwise aren’t invited.”

            “What’s that got to do with Garfield?”

            “Just let him go when I tell you.”

            Adam peered back, forgetting once again that neither one of them was visible.  Still, he could make out the faintest, shimmering image of the sylph, hovering in the air and watching the rapidly-growing train of police cars following after the fleeing Impala below.  “Now, Adam!  Let it go!”

            Puzzled, Adam dropped the kite.  It was caught by the wind, went sailing through the air, and plastered itself neatly across the windshield of one of the cars.

            The result couldn’t have been better.  The blinded driver slammed on the brakes, starting a chain reaction among the vehicles behind him.  And a moment later, the Impala’s police escort had been reduced by half.  Adam laughed.  “Nice!  Just like a scene from Blues Brothers!  Very nice, Cass!”

            “I don’t get the reference, but I am a champion kite flier.  Now for the rest.  Looks like Dean’s helping out a bit.”

            Below, two cars suddenly spouted smoke from their engines.  They quickly pulled off the side of the road.

            Cass and Adam swooped down.  “Adam, I’m going to need you to keep an eye out for obstacles, things like power lines, and warn me, alright?  I need to focus a bit.”

            “You got it.  What are you…  Oh, damn, man!  Nice work!”

            Tires were blowing out left and right on the cars below.  Cass swooped and dove, relying on his passenger’s warnings to avoid obstacles.  But then the sound of a helicopter caught Adam’s attention.  “Cass, we got company up here, buddy!”

            Cass immediately pulled up.  “It’s alright.  I need you to help me distract them, then we’ll meet up with Blake and Dean.”

            “But there’s two more cars back there that aren’t Elemental Falls!”

            “Blake can handle it.  Come on, let’s go start a forest fire.  Mostly smoke, of course.”

            That, Adam could do.

 

            Dean knew exactly what was happening when the tires began to blow in the cars behind them.  But apparently, the arrival of the state boys in their helicopter had deterred his lover.  “You need me to take out the engines on these?” he asked.

            “No need,” Blake grunted.  “Here’s where we separate the undines!”

            “Damned undines,” Dean grumbled.  “This was cheating!”

            “Yes, yes it was.  Cannonball!”  Blake stomped on the gas, and Baby went sailing over the embankment of the reservoir.  She skipped twice, roared over the other side, and kept going.

            “Here they come,” Dean noted, seeing the Elemental Falls police cars following across.  “And you’re right, the state boys are getting out and yelling.  They’ve got no idea how you assholes managed that!  By the way, I loved that movie.  Always wanted to try that, just, you know, not in Baby.”

            “Your princess just got a little bath, that’s all, didn’t you, sweetheart?”  Blake patted the wheel.  “Alright.  Time to meet up with Cass and Adam!”

            They led the undine cops a few miles further, finally reaching Anna Novak’s farm.  Anna herself was standing outside, along with, it appeared, most of the town.  Agent Sam Winchester was waiting with them, still dressed in his casual clothes.  He held several sheets of paper that had been carefully sealed into individual evidence bags.  He stood next to Bobby Singer, and a moment later, Cass and Adam materialized next to him.

            Bobby moved forward, waving at the police.  “Put those guns down, you don’t need ‘em.  Glad you’re here to join us.  Now let’s talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun says this was a fun chapter! Thinks no one is thinking through the consequences of these four living in one house, but it’s going to be fun all the same. Liked how alike the pairs actually are, and that Cass and Adam are plotting against Blake and Dean. Thinks they will probably not be successful, though. Blake and Dean may convince them that veggies actually are poisonous!


	53. Making The Earth Move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Convincing a mixed group of elementals to work together is a job that would try the patience of a saint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> diegetic music here is "Born To Be Wild" by Steppenwolf  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hIfvwwPSHCI

            “It’s not that we don’t believe you,” Miller explained again.  “It’s just that we want to give the Undine a chance to explain himself.  He deserves that much!”

            “That son of a bitch doesn’t deserve a damned thing!”  It was Kendra Baker, the salamander with the V. F. D. that had argued with Jenkins at the Novak house.  “He’s a liar, a murderer, a fucking crime lord!  All that shit you bastards had put onto the salamanders came from your own darling chief of police!”

            “Dammit, this isn’t about undines versus salamanders!” Adam exclaimed, exasperated.  “Right now, Carson Daly is out there with the ability to call up undine spirits from the elemental plane _after_ he sends his thugs after us!”

            “Adam’s right,” Blake agreed.  “It’s time to stand together.  We can give Carson all the time he needs to explain things once we take him into custody.”

            “Take him into custody?” Jenkins exclaimed.  “Blake, he’s the fucking _chief!_   Just let me go out there and talk to him.”

            “And get yourself killed by Carson’s thugs?”  Blake shook his head.  “Fine.  Once we get through to Carson, the undines can have all the time you need to talk to him.  But only _after_ we make sure he can’t hurt anyone!”

            Bobby stomped over, cursing under his breath.  “Mary Winters and Betsy McClane of the Ladies’ Auxiliary have nearly convinced the pygmies to go home and sit this one out,” he explained.  “And that pencil-necked geek of a sylph is about five minutes away from either driving them away completely or getting punched in the face!  By me!”  He pinched the bridge of his nose.  “Cass is trying to settle him down, but I’m having a time with the Ladies’ Auxiliary until he does.  Please tell me that you guys are making some headway?”

            “The salamanders are on board,” Kendra declared.  She nodded respectfully towards Adam.

            “We’re with you, Blake, we are,” Miller sighed, putting a hand on Jenkins’s shoulder.  “We just want to be sure the Chief gets to tell his side of the story.”

            “He will,” Blake vowed.  “The problem is, we’re the weak link.  Between the cops and the few that aren’t on duty at the hospital, we got maybe two dozen undines here total!  And we’re the only ones who can banish the water spirits if Carson calls ‘em!”

            “It would be a huge help if we knew who the new successor was,” Bobby said.  “Anyone got any idea?”

            “None,” Miller admitted.  “Could be anyone, but it doesn’t seem to be anyone out here, and no one here was there to witness it.”

            “We’ll have to manage,” Blake sighed.  “Ok, Bobby, fill the undines in on the plan, would you?  I’ll go help Cass.”

            Cass, it appeared, could use the help.  He stood with Agent Winchester, arguing with a man who could only be Bobby’s Pencil-Necked Geek.  This turned out to be Professor Abraham McDonald, who taught environmental studies at the Elemental Falls Community College.  He was surrounded by his students, most of whom were carrying what appeared to be protest signs.  “Sylph, I simply cannot, in good conscience, allow for the use of unchecked elemental powers!” McDonald told Cass.  “If we march on the hospital, it will show our united purpose to the majority of the undines, who will then vote to remove Daly…”

            “You do realize that the undines here with us right now, who saw all of our evidence and heard what we had to say, still are not willing to vote to remove Carson?” Cass reminded.  “The only thing more stubborn than an undine is a pygmy!”

            “Don’t worry, I’m not offended,” Bobby grumbled.

            “Then why are we thinking like pygmies?” McDonald argued.  “Why are we all so close-minded about our course of action?  While I’m not at all surprised to see that the salamanders are willing to do violence to achieve their goals…”

            “Damned straight!” Kendra yelled.

            “…As sylphs, we need to hold ourselves to a higher standard!  We need to use our brains, our reasoning, and organize a peaceful protest to institute an equally-peaceful exchange of power.  Therefore…?”

            “Professor?”  Cass’s voice was strained.  “We both know that the real reason you don’t want to fight is because you’re worried about those damned frogs!”

            “Those damned frogs have more right to be there on that island than we do!” the professor protested.  “An elemental battle could permanently damage their habitat!”

            “What, exactly, do you think will happen to their habitat if the chief calls on the water spirits?” Sam, who had been largely silent to this point, wanted to know.  “The only way we’re going to manage this is if you all work together!”

            “Sam’s right,” Cass agreed.  “We need to put our differences aside and act to save our town!”

            “Dammit, Sylph, look around!”  The professor indicated the crowd.  “There’s over a dozen salamanders on motorcycles here.  That guy is wearing a Halloween costume…”

            “I’m Ghost Rider, bitch!”

            “…That one appears to be carrying a tiki insect torch…”

            “I’ll admit it was pretty foolish to take a torch to face off with an undine,” Sam said.

            “…And the V. F. D. brought the tanker truck!”

            “We’re fighting water with water!”  Kendra called.  The salamanders of the V. F. D. cheered wildly at this.

            “See what I mean?” the professor pressed.  “You cannot allow a tanker truck to be driven over the frogs’ habitat.  It would be an environmental disaster!”

            “No, they can’t take the truck!” Cass exclaimed.  “Carson is on the island, at the weakest point in the barrier between worlds.  They’re not going to be able to drive the tanker across the water.”

            “We can if the undines help!”

            “Yeah!”

            “Come on, undines, give us a hand!”

            “Oh, you have got to be joking!” Jenkins exclaimed.

            “Well, we sylphs certainly aren’t going to attempt to carry that truck,” the professor sniffed.  “We’ll already be called upon to transport the salamanders…”

            “Oh, hell no!” Dean yelled.

            “Actually, I’m kind of with Dean on this one,” Adam agreed.  “I was actually thinking the undines could help get us across.”

            “How?” Jenkins asked.

            “Well, if you created a bridge of ice across the water…”

            “That would be yet another environmental disaster!” the professor squawked.

            “I’m sorry, but I’m late for a very important business meeting,” a sylph in a suit announced as she approached Cass.  “Sylph, do you think perhaps this coup on the Undine could be rescheduled?  He doesn’t appear to be actively doing anything, after all.  I can return in about an hour?”

            Sam groaned as if in great pain.  “Reschedule the coup, sure!  Why, exactly, were Carson and Crowley fighting to lead this town again?”

            The members of the Ladies’ Auxiliary marched up to Bobby.  “Pygmy, we’ve made up our minds.  These sylphs are completely unreasonable, and we refuse to work with them!”

            Bobby’s face darkened dangerously.  “Let me explain what is about to happen,” he growled.  “Pygmies!  Get yer asses over here, dammit!  Hurry up!  Alright, I know you hate the sylphs and all their flighty bullshit…”

            “That’s alright, no offense taken,” Cass grumbled as the professor sputtered and the board member gaped.

            “…But our traditions, our customs, and our whole way of life are at stake here!” Bobby continued.  “The pygmies have always been the foundation of this town.  We’re the ones who will move heaven and earth, if that’s what it takes, to protect it!  And ladies and gentlemen, it is time to make the earth move!  Now are we ready to show the rest of these clowns that the pygmies, at least, are willing to do what it takes?”

            The pygmies exchanged looks.  Then heads began to nod.

            “Alright!” Bobby called.  “Now, the salamanders are ready to join us, but those idjits want to take their damned tanker truck, the undines won’t help them, and the sylphs are being sylphs again.  So let’s move some earth!  Who’s with me?”

            Bobby suddenly sank into the ground as if it were liquid, and immediately, the rest of the pygmies followed.  Then a low rumbling was heard as the pygmies began their rapid trek through the earth.

            Professor McDonald shrieked in dismay, but it was drowned out by the cheers of the salamanders.  Adam was hoisted into the air and carried, protesting and squirming, to the tanker truck.  Dean needed no encouragement.  He gave Cass a quick kiss and then leaped onto the truck.  The lights and siren immediately turned on, nearly drowned out when Kendra started playing Steppenwolf's “Born To Be Wild” through the loudspeakers mounted on the top of the truck.  Sam joined someone on a motorcycle as they roared to life, following the tanker truck as it started towards the lake above the falls.

            “They can’t possibly be doing what I think they’re doing!” the professor moaned.

            “Shut up,” Cass told him.  “You do realize that the pygmies, who are harder to move than the faces on Mount Rushmore, just took off and left the sylphs in the dust?”  Not waiting for an answer, he went invisible and started after.

            “You heard my brother,” Anna called.  “Move it or be left behind, professor!”

            “I’m coming under protest!  I want to make that very clear!”

            “Shut up and start flying!”

            Blake watched as the sylphs vanished.  Then he turned to the undines.  “Well?” he asked.  “We really going to let them go at this alone while the ones sworn to protect and serve this town stand here with our dicks in our hands?”

            And a moment later, the undines were on their way as well.

****

            The Elemental Falls tumbled a distance of twelve feet to splash into the pool below.  But the source that fed them was a natural dam made of granite.  The granite held back a slow-moving river, creating a large, beautiful lake above the falls.  At the center of the lake was a small, swampy, overgrown island.  And somewhere on that island, Carson waited with his thugs.

            “I knew it!” the professor wailed.  “It’s a disaster!  The frogs are doomed!”

            “The frogs currently inhabit the southern side of the island,” Cass pointed out.  “The sun is over there, which makes this the northern side of the island.  They’re fine!”

            The pygmies had done an amazing job with their land bridge.  Still blaring music with their reluctant leader perched precariously on the cab and his second in command standing like a figurehead on the hood, the tanker truck was crossing the bridge.  Motorcycles accompanied it across.

            Cass waved, amused, as Blake ran into the water and kept running, his long legs moving over the surface of the water until he reached the other side.  Adam had managed to convince the salamanders not to charge immediately into the fray.  They were milling impatiently around among the pygmies and sylphs when the undines joined them.

            “Thanks for joining us,” Bobby began.  “I had Sylph peek ahead a bit, and we got a whole bunch of assholes from Portland with some fairly heavy firepower up ahead of us.  The salamanders can use their fire shields to protect themselves, the pygmies can’t be hurt much by bullets, and the sylphs can go invisible, but the undines will be vulnerable.  Therefore, I want them in the rear, ready to heal up any wounded, with Agent Winchester.  Dr. Hill, would you take charge of triage?”

            “Absolutely!”

            “I’ll keep them covered back here,” Sam offered, drawing his weapon.

            “Great!  Now the rest of us can get through this fast and with minimal casualties if we all work together.  Blake, I need you to pick a few powerful undines and make us some cover.  Salamander, Sylph, would you come with me, please?  The rest of you, follow our lead.  We’re going to make these bastards think they’re feeling the wrath of God!”

            Bobby’s plan was simple enough, and in the end, it worked like a charm.  Blake’s team created a thick, heavy fog around Carson’s thugs.  The pygmies raised blocks of earth from the ground.  The sylphs carried them high into the air and dropped them onto the thugs, and the salamanders ignited them as they fell.  The result was, essentially, a storm of fire and brimstone that sent the armed men cursing and falling over each other to escape it.  A few wild minutes later, the thugs were all incapacitated or in custody.

            “Bobby Singer for President!” one of the sylphs sang.

            “Shut the fuck up!” Bobby yelled.  “Now comes the hard part.”

            “We’re with you, Pygmy!” Blake encouraged.  “What do…  Gah!”

            All eyes turned to Blake as the big undine suddenly collapsed.  Shaking and gasping, he looked up, wide blue eyes falling on Bobby.  “What’s going on?” Sam asked.  “What’s wrong with him?”

            “Aw hell,” the Pygmy sighed.  “I was really hoping that he wouldn’t do it.  But he did.  Carson’s using the scepter.  He’s really calling the water spirits!”

            “But what’s going on with Blake?” Adam wanted to know.  He’d raced to Blake’s side with Cass and Dean and all three were trying to help Blake up.

            “Haven’t you figured it out yet?” Bobby snapped.  “Carson revoked Blake as his successor, but that doesn’t actually mean shit until he chooses another one.  Right now, his successor is still Blake.  And that means when Carson used his powers to activate the scepter, it drained Blake, too!”  He turned, his eyes on the undulating shafts of light that had appeared, dancing at the center of the island.  “This is it, boys and girls.  Carson Daly just summoned the elemental water spirits.  Now things are about to get interesting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun said the sylphs are airheads and if that professor mentions frogs one more time, Cass should tell Dean to literally light his ass on fire. Agrees with Bobby that this is going to get interesting.


	54. The Tough Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The elementals face off with Carson's water spirits. Blake talks to Adam about what it means to be a leader.

            Blake felt as if he was suffering from a bad case of the flu.  He felt weak, shaky, like all he wanted to do was lie down and sleep for about the next three days.  If the looks he was getting were anything to go by, he looked as bad as he felt.  “I’m alright!” he called irritably.  “Stop staring at me like I’m about to die.”

            “You ain’t dying,” Bobby assured.  “But you probably feel like you are.”

            “Ain’t that the truth,” Blake grumbled.  “But at least that bastard Carson’s feeling it the same or worse, right?”

            “Probably not,” Bobby said.  “The reason only an elder can use that staff is because you gotta be in full elemental form to reach into the elemental plane.  It’s your human portion that’s suffering right now, Blake.  Your power’s being siphoned off.  Carson’s probably feeling just as good as you’re feeling bad.”

            “Great,” Blake groaned.  “I hope he enjoys it.  Now I understand why he left me as his successor even though he publicly renounced me.  He can use me as a walking battery!  But I don’t get his end game.  He has to know that even if he pulls through a bunch of elemental spirits, we’ll be able to fight them back.  He can’t win this!  I don’t understand what he’s doing!”

            “I think I might.”  It was Sammy who’d spoken.  He had a copy of Bobby’s book in his hand and was leafing through it.  “Bobby, it says here that the scepter doesn’t summon elemental spirits so much as it opens a doorway into the elemental plane.  If it’s a doorway, then he can go through it, right?”

            “You think he wants to pass through to the elemental plane?” Adam asked.  “That’s absurd!  What for?”

            “Power,” Cass guessed.  “This whole time, he’s been after power.  The power of being mayor, the power of being Lead Elder.  But the real power, actual power?  That’s on the elemental plane.  I think that’s the real reason he wanted the scepter of the Lead Elder.  If he can pass through, find a way to control elemental power from the other side?  He can control every elemental alive, even those who aren’t physically in Elemental Falls!”

            “Is that even possible?” Adam asked Bobby.

            “Dunno,” Bobby admitted.  “It’s been tried once before, but the elders went after the guy and dragged his sorry ass back.”

            “Then that’s what we’ll do,” Cass declared.  He nodded at Adam and Bobby.  “We’ll go through, bring Carson back, and Sammy can arrest him.”

            “Oh, is that all?” Dean grumbled.  “Has anyone stopped to consider that Carson Daly has more experience with his elemental form than all three of you combined?  One of you got made an elder only a few months ago, one of you has only been one for a day, and the third has only had a few hours!”

            “Dean’s right,” Sammy agreed.  “This elemental plane, whatever it is, it’s got to be dangerous.  It’s the source of all of your powers!  That’s not even considering the elemental spirits themselves, that went out and raped a bunch of girls to create all of you in the first place!  I just saw what all of you are capable of, and you’re just hybrids.  What can true elemental spirits do?”

            “We’re about to find out,” Blake grunted.  “Before we can go through to the elemental plane after Carson, assuming that’s where he is, we need to get through those water spirits he summoned.”

            “Who’s ‘we?’  There is no we!” Adam exclaimed.  “Blake, this is a job for elders.  You especially are in no shape to try to cross over!”

            “Blake has to come, at least as far as the gate,” Bobby sighed.  “In his elemental form, Carson won’t look any different than the true spirits.  As his successor, Blake’s the only one who will be able to recognize him and tell us if he went through or not.”

            “And I’m not staying behind,” Blake declared.  “Not if the two most important people in my life are going!”

            “I’m coming too,” Dean said.

            Cass immediately scowled.  “Like hell you are!”

            “Like hell I’m not!  You two are the two most important people in my life, too, and I’m not letting you go in there alone!”

            “Dean, it’s way too dangerous,” Adam protested.  “Besides, you’re my successor.  I need you here to guide the salamanders in case something happens to me!”

            “You’re joking, right?”  Dean glared at everyone around him.  “You really think I’m going to just sit back and twiddle my thumbs while the rest of you go through and risk your lives?  Shit on that!  I’m coming!  Besides, Adam needs my control.”

            “I’ll have it!  You’re my successor, Dean, so your control will stay with me.  Right, Bobby?”

            “He’s right, Dean,” Bobby agreed.  “He’s right all the way around.  Sorry, kid, but you’re sitting this one out.”

            Dean’s green eyes grew frosty.  “I guess we’ll just see what happens when the time comes, won’t we?  Because I’m not staying behind!”

            Cass pinched the bridge of his nose.  “Dean…”

            Dean immediately moved to Cass, wrapping his arms around him.  “I’m not leaving you, Angel Eyes, and you saw what I’m like without Adam!”  His voice had gone soft, but it was full of steel as he held tightly to Cass.  “You’re not leaving me behind.  I’m coming with you, and that’s final!”

            Cass’s face grew blank.  He clung tightly to Dean, but the blue eyes that looked over Dean’s shoulder at Adam were pleading.

            Blake loudly cleared his throat.  “We’ll talk about this later, ok?  Back to the immediate problem!  We need a plan for getting past these water spirits.”

            “I’m already working on that,” Cass said.  He kissed Dean, let him go, and stepped back.  Then he raised his voice.  “Anna!”

            Anna Novak materialized next to her brother.  “There’s about two dozen water spirits out there,” she reported.  “All milling around in a circle around a center point.  It’s some kind of clearing, a big ring of sand with nothing growing.  Weird place.  I couldn’t get too close, but I thought I could see something sticking out of the ground, glowing.”

            “Probably the scepter,” Bobby guessed.  “That’s the spot where the barrier between planes is weakest.  If we’re lucky, Carson’s among the spirits.  But I’m betting we’re not lucky.”

            “Why couldn’t you get closer to find out?” Sam wanted to know.  “I thought you guys could go invisible!”

            “I’m not my brother, alright?  Most of us can’t go completely invisible like he can!  Besides, they’re spirits,” Anna replied rolling her eyes in irritation.  “The fact that I could become transparent didn’t prevent them from seeing me.  As soon as I got close, they started throwing spears of ice at me.  Almost got me, too.”  She displayed a gash on her arm.

            “Anna, you need to be careful!” Cass exclaimed.  “Go get healed up.  And thank you.”

            “Cass, how the hell did you manage to get her to be so helpful?” Bobby asked quietly once she’d moved away.

            Cass shrugged.  “I named her as my successor.  She was so happy she wouldn’t let me go for about five minutes while she sobbed into my neck.”  He grimaced, rubbing at his neck.  “She loves the idea of helping me direct the sylphs, and she’s a lot more organized than I am anyway.  I think it will work out well.”

            “Nice move, partner,” Blake congratulated.

            “Now we need some more nice moves.  And that’s where you come in.”

            Sammy cocked an eyebrow, seeing Cass’s steady gaze move to him.  “Me?”

            “You’re the Mensa level genius,” Cass reminded.  “So put that genius to use!  Bobby’s got some practical battlefield tactical experience from his military days.  He can help you figure out what to do.  But we gotta find a way to fight two dozen creatures made of living water that are capable of creating and controlling everything from ice spears to tidal waves!  If we ever needed a genius, now is the time!”

            Sammy’s jaw worked.  His eyes flicked about, and his fists clenched.  His face had gone stark white.  Blake was willing to wager that nothing in his FBI training had prepared him for a full-fledged elemental battle.  But even so, he was nodding.  “Alright.  Singer, we need to go talk with Cass’s sister some more, get a better feel for what we’re up against.”

            “Proud of you, little brother,” Dean said quietly.  His eyes were shining as he looked at Sammy.

            Sammy looked over, saw his brother’s smile, and ducked his head.  A smile spread over his lips.  “Be proud if I can find a way through this!”

            “You hit a home run with this, well, I’ll be even more proud then.  Right now, I’m just proud you’re stepping up to the plate.”

            “Dean…”  Sammy swallowed hard.  Then he nodded.  “Be careful, alright?”

            “Don’t worry about me.  You just take care of yourself.”  Dean grinned.  “Enough with the chick flick moment!  Go talk to Cass’s sister!”

            Sammy nodded again.  Then he moved off, starting towards the triage area.

            Adam had moved to Blake’s side.  He put an arm around Blake’s neck and leaned in.  Blake immediately smiled, but his smile quickly faded when Adam spoke.  “Blake, we can’t let Dean come with us,” he was saying.  “Especially not now, when he just found his brother.  I know you’ve got to come, but we can’t let Dean!”

            “I know,” Blake replied quietly.  He put an arm around Adam and turned towards him, as if the two were sharing a lovers’ moment.  “But he’s going to fight to come with us, buddy.  He’s not going to want to let you and Cass go without him.  That’s a sentiment that I can appreciate.”

            Adam leaned forward, pressing his head against Blake’s.  “He’s an idiot.  This is the elemental plane, and look at what messing with it is doing to you!  If I go through, it’s going to put the same sort of strain on Dean.  Doesn’t he understand that?”

            “Understand, probably.  Care, unlikely.”  He gave Adam a quick kiss.  “Adam, you’re Salamander now.  If you tell your people to hold Dean back, they’ll do it.”

            “He’ll be royally pissed!”

            “That is the truth,” Blake agreed.  “From what little I know of Dean, it’s going to take about three or four guys to hold him back, and he’ll punch you in the face as soon as you get back.  But Adam, you’re going to have to make the tough decisions, the ones that make people hate you and maybe even cost you friendships.  Because in the end, you gotta do what’s best for your elementals!  Dean is your successor now.  I don’t like the idea of anything happening to you any more than he does, but you were right.  He needs to stay behind and be safe.”

            Adam’s hazel eyes seemed to bore into Blake.  “What happens if, when it’s all said and done, he hates me?”

            “I don’t think that’s possible.”

            “You don’t think you’re a bit prejudiced, Big Country?”

            “Oh, I am very prejudiced,” Blake confessed.  He kissed Adam again.  “If it was me you were leaving behind, when you came back, I would put you over my knee and spank your ass until it glowed red!  But if you were willing to stay with me through it?  I think, in time, I’d understand.  Because I know you did it out of love.”  He brushed his fingers over Adam’s cheek.  “Wish I could take this whole business away from you, Rockstar.  But this is your cross to bear.  You’re the one who has to make this choice.  Now, I told you what I think I’d do, but I’m not Dean.  No one knows Dean better than you do.  Think that’s the case with him?”

            “Well, other than the spanking my ass part?”  Adam considered, glancing at Dean.  “I think he’s going to do more than punch me in the face, though.  Frankly, I think he’ll shove his foot so far up my ass I’ll be tasting the mud on the soles of his boots.  But yeah, I think you’re right.  It will take time.  But eventually, he’ll realize I did it because I love him.  I’d do anything to protect the people I love, Blake.  No matter what.”

            “Then go talk to your salamanders,” Blake urged.  “Tell them that, when it’s time for you to go through, they need to get hold of Dean and hold him back.  And do Cass a favor and talk to him about it, would you?  Make sure he’s on board with what you’re doing.  He’s going to feel just as much, if not more, fall-out from Dean over this than you are.”

            Adam grimaced.  “Good point.  Cass is a great guy, Blake.  I really like him!”  He gave Blake another quick kiss.  “Thank you.”

            “Sure.”  Blake watched as his lover moved off and pulled Cass aside.

            “How you feeling, Blake?”

            Blake looked up and saw the grizzled face of Bobby Singer, looking down at him in concern.  “Honestly?  I feel like half-baked day-old shit that’s been run over by a truck,” Blake confessed.  “But don’t worry.  I won’t be a burden on you.”

            “Not what I’m worried about.  Adam’s going to be in real danger once we pass through to the elemental plane because it’s going to be the undine realm.  He’s an elder, so he’s tougher than most salamanders, but Dean…?”

            “Adam’s already taking care of Dean.  He won’t be joining us.”

            “And how do you feel about that?”

            “Not good, to be honest,” Blake confessed.  “I like Dean a lot, and he’s going to be damned hurt by this.  But it’s for the best.  As for Adam, I’ll protect him.  Shouldn’t you be strategy planning?”

            Bobby gave a grunt in reply.  “I contributed what I could, but honestly, between Dean’s brother and Cass’s sister, I’m about as useless as fake tits on a zombie.  That boy really is a genius, and Anna got where she is in the business world because she’s got guts, takes risks, and thinks way outside the box!  Never cared for her, but she might just save the day today.”

            “Sylphs aren’t all bad.”  Blake grinned.  “But I guess you know that, don’t you?  Does the Ladies’ Auxiliary know you were dating Esther Novak?”

            “No, and unless you want a punch in the mouth, you won’t tell them!”  Bobby was scowling fiercely.  But his eyes softened as he looked at Blake.  “Think you can get up, big guy?”

            “Sure.”  Blake swayed a bit, but managed his feet without assistance.  “We ready?”

            “Looks like it.”

            Blake looked for Adam and found him with Cass, talking to the undines.  Of course.  They needed to know what to do in order to banish the undine spirits.  Blake started towards them quickly.  “Hey!” he called.  “Anything I need to know?”

            “Sammy’s got some good ideas for how we can combine our powers to fight,” Cass explained.  “But we all know it’s going to be a rough fight.  The doc is moving his triage closer, because this time there’s sure to be injuries.”

            “Pygmies are going to be doing the heavy lifting on this one, huh?”

            “Yes and no.  Blake, for the most part, you’re riding the bench on this one, partner.  You’re in no shape to fight, and we’re going to need you to help us find Carson.  That means you stay back behind the front lines.”

            Blake nodded.  “I don’t like it, but I get it.  I’ll keep back.  Good luck, partner.”

            “Thanks,” Cass sighed.  “We’ll need it.”

****

            Even from well behind the front lines, Blake had a hell of a view.  He’d expected the pygmies to wade in, with support from the sylphs and, to a lesser degree, the salamanders, while the undines were regulated to healers and banishing.  But he’d been wrong.  Sylphs and salamanders worked together, producing a fiery cyclone that tore into the undine spirits.  Water mixed with earth to create a landslide.  The most powerful of the salamanders worked with the most powerful of the pygmies to generate a flow of molten metal that the sylphs then blew towards the undine spirits as razor-sharp spears of metal.  Undines moved quickly among them all, deflecting what they could of the water spirits’ counterattacks.  But the casualties were building, and soon the medical team had its hands full.  Some needed sent to the hospital, with the worst cases taken through the earth by pygmy volunteers capable of moving far faster than even the airborne sylphs.

            The counterattacks were relentless.  Massive waves of water crashed down.  Snow and freezing rain battered at them.  Clouds formed overhead that dropped heavy hail.  Sammy, right in the middle of the fight, directed the troops with Anna Novak serving as his messenger.  As Blake watched, he was pointing towards the wave.  Up ahead, Pygmy charged forward, transforming into elemental form as he went.  He dove, shifting into a heavy wall of earth and stone that pushed back the wave of water.  The entire wall moved, looking like a wave made of earth, and plowed forward into the water spirits.

            Now Sammy was yelling something to Cass and Adam, pointing at the sky.  Cass disappeared and Adam changed into living flames.  Reaching towards the sky, the Salamander unleashed a massive gout of fire.  Blake had a moment of panic when he realized that the fire was heading right where Sylph was likely flying, judging by the way the flames danced and roared up in the winds.  But the control Salamander had obtained from Dean was evident, and Blake quickly realized what they were doing.  Sylph’s winds, now superheated, were melting the ice and dispersing the clouds.

            A figure that appeared to be on fire raced up to join Salamander.  Dean fearlessly tapped the shoulder of the living flames, pointing at Sam, who was yelling again and frantically firing his pistol at a lone water spirit that had somehow made its way past Pygmy’s wall.  The two salamanders ran to cover the agent, directing their combined firepower at the spirit.  The spirit writhed, steaming, and started towards them.  But suddenly the twin gouts of flame were vastly increased, boosted by the miniature cyclone that had dropped from the sky to hover just above and behind them.  The water spirit writhed more and lost its form, splashing into a puddle of water.

            Blake hadn’t even realized he’d been running up until he was there.  He reached towards the weakened spirit, forcing it back to the elemental plane.  There was a shriek, and it was gone, leaving only a wet patch on the ground.

            “Nice shooting, Tex,” Sammy called.  “Now get your ass out of my line of fire!”

            Blake grinned, shot Sammy a salute, and headed back.  But he was only there for a few moments before Anna Novak appeared.  “Pygmy, Sylph, and Salamander are about to move up.  You need to go join them.”

            “Alright,” he said.  “Where’s Dean?”

            “Salamander sent him back to the tanker truck.  He’s with a bunch of salamanders from the V. F. D., spraying the water spirits.  You wouldn’t think that would work, but somehow, it’s driving them back!  And I know what you’re thinking.  The salamanders are ready to grab him as soon as you join up with the elders.”

            “Thank you, Anna.”  Blake started off again.

            Blake knew it would be bad, but he hadn’t been prepared for the sight of the dead.  Men and women he knew, people he’d just seen that week, people from his church, his neighborhood…  Blake caught sight of the lifeless, staring eyes of the young woman who had bagged his groceries a couple days before and nearly threw up.

            Blake liked Dean.  That was why he didn’t feel guilty at all when the salamanders suddenly pounced on him.  As predicted, Dean did not take it well.  He struggled and screamed, threatened and pleaded.  Cass’s face was white, and Adam looked ready to throw up.  So it was Blake who went to Dean.

            Dean was panting and sweating, still struggling as his fellow salamanders held him down on his stomach on the ground.  “Get off of me!  Don’t leave me behind, Blake.  Don’t you fucking leave me behind!”

            Blake gently put a hand on Dean’s shoulder.  “Dean, I know this hurts, buddy.  I can’t imagine what I’d be feeling right now, if I was in your position.  But they’re doing this because they love you.”

            “They fucking love you, too!”  Dean strained.  “Get them off of me, Blake!  Don’t do this!  Please!”

            “I’m sorry.”  He squeezed Dean’s shoulder again, and then wearily stood up.  Then he began to walk away.

            “Blake!”  From behind him, Dean’s voice was pitched, panicky.  “Don’t you leave me, Blake!  Don’t you leave me behind!  Damn you, Blake!  _Blake!”_

            Blake approached Adam and Cass and put his arms around their shoulders, leading them quickly forward to where Bobby waited.  Bobby looked suddenly old, and tired.  “We ready for this?”

            Bobby motioned him forward.

            Blake hugged Adam and Cass, planting a kiss on each of their heads.  Neither one would meet his eyes, staring steadfastly at the ground.  “You did the right thing,” he assured them.

            Cass didn’t reply, but Adam nodded.  “I know,” he called.

            “Blake!”

            “Coming!”  Reluctantly letting Cass and Adam go, Blake moved forward to join Bobby.  Bobby gestured, bringing five undines to follow.  Then the four of them started walking.

            The closer he got to the center of the clearing, where the glowing scepter marked the open gateway, the worse Blake felt.  By the time the scepter came into view, Blake had to will himself not to grab onto one of the others for support.  _Get it together, asshole,_ he warned himself.  _You need to be able to help them, not make them carry you!_

            “Take a good look, Blake,” Bobby encouraged.  “You’re the only one who can tell us for sure.  Where is he?”

            Blake looked around.  He could see a few water spirits, man-shaped columns of living water that still fought even as the undines drove them back.  But they all looked the same.  He couldn’t tell, how could he…

            Wait.

            Blake closed his eyes, let himself feel drawn towards the Undine as Carson continued to drain him.  And he knew without a doubt.  “He’s through the opening,” he called.

            “You sure?”

            “Positive.”  Blake’s eyes snapped open.  “He’s right through the gate!  Let’s go get his sorry ass.”

            “We will,” Bobby assured.  “I promise, we will.”

            And then Blake found himself flat on his face, pinned down by the five undines Bobby had brought along with them.  Shocked, he looked up, seeing the pale faces and hollow eyes of Adam and Cass as they looked at him, and then quickly looked away.  “No!  Get off of me!” he yelled.  “No, you sons of bitches, don’t you fucking dare leave me behind!”

            “Rest up, Blake,” Bobby called.  “We’ll go get Carson.”

            Blake screamed and fought, finally understanding why Adam had asked him the questions he had.  _He was asking me about Dean, but not just him.  He wanted to know how I felt, what would happen if he did exactly this, and I told him to do it!  I all but gave him permission!_   “Adam!” he screamed aloud.

            But Adam wouldn’t look back.  The three elders transformed, shifting into their elemental forms as they approached the scepter.  There was a shimmer of light.  And then they were gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun says Blake should have known what they were going to do, although he admits he did not see that coming. Says it was a smart move, though. Thinks they are making a mistake by not taking Blake.


	55. The Elemental Plane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby takes Cass and Adam into the elemental plane to face down Carson. Blake and Dean are not happy about being left behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter! Still isn't quite what I would like, but I'm at that point again where if I don't post it, I will revise it forever.

            In a way, Bobby Singer had been preparing his entire life to enter the elemental plane.  Fascinated with elemental lore all his life, he’d studied everything he could get his hands on.  He could show visitors copies he’d made of ancient documents so delicate they could only be photographed, answer any question put to him, and was, in his own personal opinion, the definitive expert on elementals.  And yet, the first thing he realized when he stepped into the elemental plane with the other two elders was that he was in way over his head.  Nothing he’d ever seen could have prepared him for this.

            The elemental plane was chaos incarnate.  Even in full elemental form, Bobby could feel the resistance of his body as he moved forward.  He’d expected the raw power he could feel flowing all around him.  As an elemental, he’d anticipated feeling drawn towards the source of the power that had flowed through him since shortly after reaching adulthood.  But that wasn’t the case.  Instead, he felt as if the entire plane was somehow repulsing him, pushing against him, rejecting his presence as alien and intrusive and somehow _other,_ something from another world that simply should not exist in this place.

            “Ok, this really sucks,” Adam announced.

            “I agree,” Cass said.  “The faster we find the chief and get him out of here, the better.”

            “Preaching to the choir, boys,” Bobby assured them as the three started moving cautiously forward.  “Realizing now that the old lore, even the oldest of it, was mostly just superstition and speculation.  And most of that was dead wrong!  There’s power here, alright, but it’s not something that anyone could hope to control.  This is just way beyond human understanding!  Daly’s got to have realized that!”

            “I agree.”

            “Absolutely!  But since he does not appear to have gone back to admit his failure and face defeat, and Blake sensed him here, then we know he’s still here.  So how do we find him?  I have no idea where to start looking, Mr. Singer.”

            “It’s Bobby, Cass.  Mr. Singer was my father.”

            Adam snorted.  “Yeah, Cass, calling him that makes him sound even older, and he’s already an old geezer.”

            “Shut up.”  Bobby peered around, trying to make any sense at all of all the chaos around him.  Lights and colors were swirling about in a dizzying kaleidoscope that was rapidly giving him a headache.  “Balls!  We’ll never find him this way.  _Hey, Carson!”_ he bellowed.  _“Where the hell did you go?”_

            “Ow?” Adam complained.  “My headache is worse now!  Dammit, we made a mistake, guys.  We should have asked one of the undines to come with us.”  He paused, realizing something.  “Hey, I can sense Dean!  Cass, can you sense your sister?”

            “I can,” Cass confirmed.  “And that’s the only reason I know where the door is.  Otherwise, I’d be lost.”

            “But that means Carson can sense Blake,” Adam pointed out.  “So if he didn’t go back to the door, then he’s not planning to leave!  He must still think he can accomplish something here!  Why?”

            “Because he’s a stubborn asshole who can’t admit he was wrong and gambled everything and lost,” Bobby grumbled.  “And don’t forget, this segment is the water plane.  Things might make a bit more sense to him here than they do to us.”

            “Make sense?” Adam asked.  “What sense do you want to make of a place that looks and feels like Hoth from Star Wars?  It’s just this endless landscape of snow and ice, and I’m standing here made of living fire and still feel like I’m freezing!”

            “Huh?”  Cass’s voice echoed Bobby’s confusion.  “It’s a bit chilly, but that’s just because it’s so damp!  It’s nothing but thick mist in here.”

            “I’m not seeing either of those things,” Bobby said.  “All I see is swirling lights!  Now ain’t that interesting?  Adam, the Salamander, sees snow and ice and feels cold, but snow and ice are something he can affect.  Cass sees mist, something he can affect as Sylph.  But as Pygmy, I can’t affect shit!  My powers are the opposite of an undine’s, and that’s why I feel like this place is trying hard to spit me back out!”

            “I feel a bit of that myself,” Cass admitted.

            “Same,” Adam called.  “So what do we do?  What’s the real place look like?”

            “I imagine it looks like exactly what all three of us are seeing,” Bobby said.  “We’re just each seeing only part of it.  Now don’t get excited about this, you two.”

            The minute he took their hands, all three of their perceptions changed.  Now they were looking at Adam’s snow-covered landscape, mostly obscured by Cass’s mist.  And the swirling lights turned out to be water spirits.  The spirits moved around, seeming listless, ignoring the three strange visitors that walked quickly through their ranks.

            “Carson could be any one of these or none of them,” Adam said.  He instinctively kept his voice low, cringing away from a water spirit that wandered near.  “Bobby, what do we do?”

            “I hate to tell you this, but I got no idea,” Bobby answered.  “Was hoping one of you had an idea.  Cass?”

            “Sorry,” Cass said.  “All I can think to do is move forward and just look.  See if we can find one water spirit that’s acting differently than the others.  It will be Carson, right?”

            “Or, you could ask me?”

            The three elders turned around, and there, leaning heavily on each other, were Blake and Dean.  Neither looked happy.  “We’ll talk later,” Blake snapped.  “Right now, you need me to find Carson.”

            “You damned idjits!” Bobby yelled.  “You’re here in human bodies?  You’ll get your fool selves killed!”

            “Yeah, we’ll freeze to death if we don’t get moving, so how about we get started?” Dean asked through chattering teeth.  “Blake, why the hell do you guys have to live on Hoth?”

            “Anna let you through, didn’t she?” Cass accused, dropping back to human form and moving to help.  He quickly ducked under Blake’s arm, intentionally not looking at Dean.  “She was fretting about me, going on about me going through without an undine to back me up and saying you were the only logical choice because you knew Carson and you were the only one who could sense him…”

            “Alright, I get why she let him through,” Adam sighed.  He’d also reverted to his human form and moved to help his friend.  “But why are you here, Dean?”

            “Because Blake told the salamanders that he needed me to find you, and he was right,” Dean snapped.  His eyes were fixed on Cass, who finally returned his gaze.  “I trusted you, Cass.  First time I’ve trusted anyone in a damned long time!”

            Cass flushed.  “I did what I thought I had to do to keep you safe!”

            “Being with you keeps me safe!  We’re not meant to be alone, Cass.  All four of us just work better with each other!”

            “And that’s the other reason I brought him along,” Blake said.  “Because we’re better together.”

            “You and me, Adam?  We’ve always been a team!” Dean insisted.  “And Blake and Cass are the same.  Now you’ve got something with Blake, and I cannot imagine my life without Cass in it.  And Blake, once I stopped thinking of him as another undine cop and really started to see who he really was?  We clicked!  And I bet it was the same with you and Cass, wasn’t it?”  Dean smiled.  “We belong together, all four of us!  And that’s why we’re here.  Now let’s find this asshole, and as soon as we get out of here, I am kicking both of your asses so hard that you’ll have to do a headstand to take a shit!”

            Bobby groaned.  He was patient for a few endless seconds while the four reunited.  Then he couldn’t stand it any longer.  “Alright, enough mush!  Pull yourselves together, boys, we got work to do.  Shelton, you can sense Carson?  Get yer ass up here and play hound dog!  Sooner we find Daly the sooner we can get out of here.  And someone come here and hold my damned hand again, would ya?  I can’t see shit!”

            “Aw, Bobby, do you need me to hold your hand?” Dean cooed.  “Come here, Daddy Dean will protect you!”

            “Or you could drop out of elemental form,” Cass suggested.  “I can actually see fairly well now.”

            “Don’t worry,” Adam soothed.  “I’ll still hold your hand, Bobby.  And if you’re nice, I’ll even sing you a lullaby?”

            Bobby’s reply was a stony stare that remained even as he reverted to human form.

****

            Carson Daly didn’t look any different than any of the other water spirits they’d passed.  He stood with his hands spread out at his sides, seeming to be asleep standing up.  “Hello, Blake,” he called when the five approached.  “Fancy seeing you here.  Looking a bit worse for the wear, aren’t you, buddy?”

            Bobby had noticed it, the way Blake had sagged more and more, leaning heavily against Bobby as he’d supported the big undine.  Bobby believed that bringing Blake with them was a mistake, and bringing Dean was an even bigger mistake.  But he couldn’t deny the effect on morale.  The four really did work better together.  But Blake could barely stand, and Dean was too easy of a target.  Bobby braced and tried to prepare for anything.  “Undine?” he called.  “What are you doing?”

            “Can you feel it, Blake?  How the power is so much stronger here?” Carson asked, ignoring Bobby’s question.  “This is where the elemental planes meet.  The power is just incredible!”

            “Dude, you seriously sound high,” Adam noted.  “Maybe you’ve been sniffing the elemental glue a bit too much?”

            “It’s time to go back, Chief,” Cass urged.  “You can’t control the power here.  If you try, it will tear you apart!”

            “No, Sylph, see, that’s where you’re wrong.”  The watery figure raised its hands, fingers splayed.  Its form seemed to vibrate.  “It’s so strong, and I can feel it flowing through me!  If you changed into your elemental forms, you’d feel it, too.  All four powers just right here!”

            “Ok, this guy is seriously whacked,” Dean observed.  “I vote we punch him in the mouth, scoop him into a bottle or mop him up with a shirt or something, and just carry his drippy ass out!”

            Personally, Bobby wanted to second that motion.  But even in his human form, he could feel it.  Carson was focusing on the joining point between the planes, and apparently had been for some time.  Now he was starting to have an effect.  He closed his eyes and focused, feeling the pull from the earth plane and the odd sensation of warmth and rushing air that were encroaching onto this plane.  Alarmed, he snapped his eyes opened.  “Carson, stop!” he roared.  “You’re breaking down barriers that were never meant to be broken!”

            “It’s alright,” Carson soothed.  “I can handle it.  I can feel them, all four powers flowing into me at once.  I’ll be amazing!  I’ll be a god!”

            “Ok, something is going on,” Blake warned.  His blue eyes were darting frantically around.  “It felt kind of nice here before, but now it’s all starting to feel weird!”

            Bobby looked around, and noticed that the others were feeling it, too.  “Dammit, Carson!” he yelled.  “You’re tearing open a rift between the planes!  If they all bleed into each other, what the hell do you think that’s going to do to all the elementals on Earth?  You’re not going to be a god, you’re going to kill every elemental alive!”

            “No!  I can hold it!”

            “Crazy son of a bitch!”

            Cass narrowed his eyes.  “We can try to drag him away?”

            “Do that, and your lover’s dead,” Carson declared.  “Look around you, Sylph!  You’re surrounded by water spirits now!”

            “So fucking what?” Dean snapped.  “I just fought two dozen of ‘em, just like the ones here!  Just like _you!_   And guess what, Undine?  My little brother showed me exactly how to fight you!”

            Bobby knew that Dean and Adam didn’t do what they termed “wetwork.”  They weren’t killers, but they were certainly thugs.  Their weapons of choice were usually their fists, brass knuckles or saps, occasionally knives.  So he had no idea where Dean had learned to use a gun.  But his aim was good.  Sam’s standard issue pistol roared in Dean’s hand.  The heavy lead slugs plowed through the water spirits, shattering Carson’s control over them just as they disrupted their humanoid forms.  Then Blake was there, reaching out a shaking hand towards the spirits, turning them, and sending them off.

            “Kid’s got the right idea,” Bobby declared.  He created a stone shell over his fist and sent it crashing into Carson’s watery face.  The Undine’s form splashed.  It quickly began to reform, but Cass and Adam stepped up.  Flames and wind lashed at the amorphous water, scattering it and driving it back.

            “I can hold him!” Dean called, moving up next to Adam.  “You four need to work together to seal that rift, right?  Or the whole plane goes to shit and that bleeds over into all of us?”

            “Every once in a while, you do pay attention in class,” Adam marveled.  “But you can’t hold him long, especially if I go full elemental and start draining you again!”

            Dean’s face was set into a determined scowl.  “I’ll hold him long enough.  Blake!”

            “I’m here!  Bobby, show us what to do?”

            Why did everyone always think he knew what to do?  Well, he supposed he had no one to blame but himself.  After all, he’d literally written the book on elemental powers.  “Get your asses up here and focus on your own element,” he instructed, hoping he was right.  “Push it back to its source.  Blake, you watch and when everything is feeling good to you again, you need to seal this rift.”

            “Alright!”

            “Guys, hurry the fuck up!”  Dean panted, straining.

            The three elders immediately turned to face the rift, shifting back to elemental form.  All around them, the landscape seemed to shift and shake, seeming to protest the intrusion from the other three planes.  But it was settling down.  Finally, Bobby felt the last bit of the earth plane being pushed away as Blake sealed the rift.

            And then Sam’s weapon fired once more.  Turning, he stared in shock at Carson, kneeling on the ground clutching his bloody shoulder.  The wounded undine was blinking up at Dean, who stood, white-faced, with the pistol clenched in his hand.  “You can heal yourself, or Blake can heal you!” Dean was saying.  “You’ll be fine!  He’ll be fine, right?  Holy shit, he’s really bleeding, someone do something!”

            “He’ll be alright,” Blake soothed, moving to cover Carson’s wound with his hand.  “I slowed the bleeding and we’ll get him healed up when we get out.  Cass, get us the hell out of here!”

            “Right!”

            “I got this one,” Bobby announced, moving to assist Carson.  “Go on, we’ll bring up the rear.”

            Bobby lagged back a bit, giving the others a chance to move ahead.  Then he spoke.  “Don’t try a damned thing,” he warned in a low voice.  “Let me tell you a secret.  I’m the one who found Roman Levine when Crowley tried to kill him.  I’d been out there on business, had some drinks with him, and then when he disappeared I went looking for him.  But I was too late.  I got him out of the water just in time for him to bleed to death, and the stubborn bastard wouldn’t tell me who’d done it.  But you know what he did tell me?  To take care of his people!  He knew he was supposed to be the next Salamander, Carson.  And he knew that Crowley would take on the mantle until Adam got old enough.  That’s why I have such an interest in the salamanders.  Because I was asked to protect them.  But I didn’t.  I let you and Crowley run them damned near into the ground.  I let those two boys be turned into thugs for hire, and for what?  So you could chase some grand dream of power and godhood?”

            Carson didn’t reply.

            “So here’s the thing I need you to understand,” Bobby continued.  “Those four have taken some lives between them, but they’re not killers.  But me?  I can kill you, Carson, tradition and The Rules be damned!  I can do it right here, right now.  So here’s what’s going to happen.  We’re all going to get out of here.  You’re going to be censured, and Blake will become the next Undine.  Then you’ll go join Crowley in federal prison.  And if you try to retaliate?  If anything that even seems like you may have had a hand in it comes to past for any of the people I care about?  I will come for you, Carson.  And I will drag you deep into the earth.  And I will leave you there, in the dark with your own screams.”

****

            “Get up, Novak.  You’re going to be late for work again.”

            The lump under the covers groaned.  A hand reached out, grabbed a pillow, and held it over a dark head of hair.

            Blake chuckled.  “Suit yourself.  I don’t want to hear it when your coffee’s cold.”  Turning from the door, he headed back downstairs.

            “Hey Shelton!” Cass’s voice called from the kitchen.  “Did you drink the last of the orange juice?”

            “The juicer is right there on the counter, Cass!” Adam yelled back from the dining room.

            “Adam, I juiced the last three batches of oranges.  And you drank most of the juice from all three!  This is an extremely unbalanced division of labor.  Blake, would you please do something about your husband?”

            “I’ll juice the damned oranges, you try your luck at getting your own husband out of bed,” Blake announced.  “Why you two hippies won’t just drink out of a carton is beyond me!”

            Adam immediately started lecturing him about the unending benefits of fresh squeezed, and Blake stopped him with a kiss.  “Good morning, darlin’!” he drawled.

            “Sammy’s coming over tomorrow night,” Adam reminded.  “I need an excuse to not talk to him.”

            “Or, you can admit that you’ve never really been mad at him?”

            “That son of a bitch arrested us, Blake!” Adam exclaimed, scowling.  “He had Carson in one cruiser and me and Dean in another!”

            “And he told you to trust him,” Blake reminded.  “You two needed to testify to make sure Carson and Crowley went away, and he needed you in protective custody.”

            “Prison sucks, Blake,” Adam complained.  “It’s cramped, it’s noisy, it smells bad, the food sucks, and those beds may as well be made of slabs of plywood.  And we had to stay in jail the entire trial!”

            “At least he arranged for you to stay in jail in town where we could protect you?”

            “Only because he knew I’d be in trouble if they kept me away from the town now that I’m Salamander!”

            “And he kept you and Dean together.”

            “That’s not much of a plus, Blake.  You know how much he snores!”

            Blake leaned down, wrapping an arm around Adam’s shoulders and nuzzling into his hair.  “And he arranged for Cass and I to be able to visit with you both.”

            “Ok, I’ll give him that.  And Dean never stopped believing in him.  Kept saying, ‘Sammy’s got a plan, he’s a genius, he knows what he’s doing, we gotta trust him!’ and on, and on!”

            “And he was right.  You guys both got full immunity in exchange for your testimony.  And now you’ve started your own restoration business!”

            “Dean’s damned good with cars,” Adam admitted.  “And I’m good at arguing over parts.  And if anyone gets on our shit, one of us is married to the Chief of Police.”

            “Hail to the Chief!” Blake called, saluting Cass as he returned to the dining room with a sleepy Dean in tow.

            Cass rolled his eyes.  “I don’t see any orange juice, Blake?”

            “Yes, Sir, right away sir!”  Blake scurried off to the kitchen.

            “Adam?” Dean began.

            “I know, I know, I married a morning person,” Adam grumbled.  “Now go make us some breakfast, bitch.”

            “Right after you lick my balls, Shelton.”

            “Oh fuck you, Novak!”

            “You wish!”  Dean put some extra swagger in his walk as he headed to the kitchen.

            “Ah, the morning routine!” Cass sighed.  “How did I ever live before I had this?”

            “Your life was very boring,” Adam reminded.  “You jogged alone, you still sucked at yoga, and you never got to psychoanalyze the mayor until he got so flustered he finally gave you whatever you wanted for your department.”

            “I will admit to taking a certain amount of childish glee from that,” Cass said.  “Personally, I think Bobby could do with a good psychoanalysis from someone actually qualified to do it instead of just me.  Now, shall we talk about why you’re going to sit down with Sammy tomorrow and finally admit that you were never really mad at him?”

            “Like hell!”

            “You do realize he already knows?”

            Adam wilted.  “You think so?”

            “He told me the day he arrested you,” Cass explained calmly.  “I was about to talk with him, and you know he actually clapped a hand on my mouth, told me to shut up, and that he was well aware your anger was only an act to cover up how insecure you really are?”

            “Oh, go to hell,” Adam grumbled.  He raised his voice.  “Blake!  Where’s the orange juice?”

            “Where’s the vodka to go in it?” Dean hollered from the kitchen.

            Bent over the juicer, Blake only laughed.  What a life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fun thought what Bobby said was “Wow!” and liked it. Liked the different perspectives they all had of the elemental plane, how they could only see what they could affect. Thought Carson was, and I quote, "A fuckhead." Was glad that Blake and Dean came through after them. Enjoyed Blake calling Cass and Adam hippies.


End file.
